The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale
by Alicia Blade
Summary: When a kitten leads Serena to the home of J. Grimm and the magical world beyond, full of princes, fairy godmothers, and wicked queens, she begins to realize that fairy tales aren't all happy ever afters. WARNING: reviews contain spoilers!
1. Puss in Boots

Copyright 2006 Alicia Blade. Sailor Moon copyright Naoko Takeuchi.

_Readers be warned: This story is an Alternate Universe in every sense of the word, including some severe out-of-character-ness. The author is exercising artistic license and hopes you will enjoy regardless._

This story has many references to fairy tales (mostly Grimm). Though you shouldn't need to have any extensive knowledge on the subject, if you find yourself confused by any fairy tale references, please let me know and I'll try to clarify.

**An enormous thanks goes to Phantasy Star for her excellent editing and critiquing!**

Note: "Brier Rose" is the original name for "The Sleeping Beauty" or "The Sleeping Princess."

**The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade**

Chapter 1: Puss in Boots  
"_Listen," said the cat, "there's no need to kill me when all you'll get will be a pair  
of poor gloves from my fur. Have some boots made for me instead. Then I'll be able to go  
out, mix with people, and help you before your know it."_  
from Puss in Boots

"You are _never_ going to believe what happened in chemistry!"

Serena closed her locker and glanced at her best friend, Melvin, from the corner of her eye. He stood tottering excitedly from foot to foot, barely an inch taller than Serena's petite form. "Did you blow something up?"

Melvin scrunched up his nose. "Of course not. Chemistry's my number one subject."

"Right," she muttered. "Okay, I give up. What happened in chemistry?"

Pushing coke-bottle glasses higher on the bridge of his nose, Melvin announced proudly, "We picked lab partners!"

Rolling her eyes, Serena slung her backpack higher on her shoulder and fell back against the wall of lockers. "Melvin," she said patiently, "remember that talk we had about things people just aren't interested in, like your lepid—lepid—"

"Lepidoptera."

"Lepidoptera collection? And the fact that you study for forty hours a week and have a 4.2 GPA? Melvin, I care about you and all, and I'm glad you're so excited about your lab partner, but—"

Shaking his hands in front of her to stop the lecture, Melvin blurted, "It's Darien!"

The words she'd been thinking dissipated with the mention of _his_ name and she found her heart beating noticeably quicker. "Excuse me?" she squeaked.

Nodding proudly with a huge grin on his acne-scarred face, Melvin continued, "Told you this was exciting."

"Melvin, how did you—_Why_ did you—? Darien Shields?"

"Of course! Don't you see, Serena? This is perfect! What better excuse to feed him information about you?"

Going pale, Serena quickly shook her head. "Oh no, uh-uh, you will do no such thing! Do you hear me, Melvin Edward Gimmerson?"

Melvin grimaced. "I hate it when you call me that."

Scowling down her nose, Serena placed her hands on her hips. "I'm serious! I don't want you to mention me or drop hints or _anything._"

"But Serena, why _not?_ You've only had a crush on him since fifth grade! This is the perfect opportunity. I have it all figured out. First I'll tell him about how amazing and pretty you are—"

"Melvin…"

"No, listen! Then, when he's really intrigued, I'll make up some story about your older quarterback boyfriend from Italy coming down with mad cow disease and now you need a date to homecoming and voilà! Date achieved!"

Closing her eyes, Serena hit her head a few times against the locker, then sighed. "Melvin, what part of that huge 4.2 GPA brain of yours thinks that is a good idea?"

"Well, scientific research shows that the cerebrum of the brain—"

"Never mind. Just… no. I am not going to try and get him through a series of blatant lies, and I'm certainly not going to have you doing all the lying. Besides, you're a terrible liar."

"So what, then? Are you going to spend your whole life waiting for him to come and sweep you off your feet? This isn't a fairy tale, Serena."

Serena bristled. "I know that."

"Ah, I'm sorry, Sere. It's not…I meant… you know, it could happen. Fairy tales come true. Then again, so do horror flicks, but you know…"

"There he is!" Serena inhaled sharply and Melvin didn't need to turn around to know that junior Darien Shields, the heartthrob of Crossroads High, was walking down the hallway. Pursing her lips, Serena tried to both cower into the unforgiving lockers as well as keep her eyes trained on him for as long as possible. She didn't really _need_ to look at him, of course, having long before memorized his stature, the way his shoulders moved when he walked, the cool undertones in his otherwise warm cerulean eyes, the messy hair that always seemed just enough out of place to be sexy without appearing unkempt.

She gulped, the tiniest bit of an embarrassed blush reaching her cheeks, and watched him pass. He didn't notice her, she noted with equal parts disappointment and gratitude. She was sure she would have to change schools if he ever knew how she gawked at him every time he was in sight.

At the end of the hallway Darien was met with a handful of his friends and they rolled out into the courtyard, disappearing from view. Serena finally let out her breath and the world sparked to life again.

"You _are_ going to wait your whole life for him to sweep you off your feet, aren't you?" Melvin asked from beside her, and she mentally chided herself for all but forgetting that he was still there.

"Of course not," she said, not sure who she was convincing, and threw a brilliant smile at Melvin. "I'd take just about any prince, really. He's just the closest I've found so far. Come on." Threading her free arm around Melvin's elbow, she headed toward a different exit of the school.

"Say, how did you manage to talk him into being partners with you anyway?"

"I didn't," answered Melvin, pushing his glasses up again. "He asked me."

"Maybe he wanted to partner with you because you'll ensure that he gets a good grade," Serena suggested, ticking off reasons that the popular Darien Shields would ever want to partner with her geeky outcast of a best friend.

Melvin tilted his head back to look at a cloudy sky. "At first I thought that, too, but Darien has the second highest grade in our class, after me, of course, and the fifth highest GPA in the school."

Serena frowned. "Melvin, where do you find all this out?"

"Isn't it common knowledge?"

"No, it's not. Besides, if either of us is going to stalk him, shouldn't it be me?"

Ignorant of her teasing, Melvin answered defensively, "I'm not stalking him!"

"Maybe he wants to be with someone as smart as he is so he won't get taken advantage of. I hate it when I have to do all the work in a team project."

"Honestly, Serena, when has that ever happened?"

"Hey, it's happened! Well, at least, it could happen. If I were ever paired up with a bigger procrastinator than myself."

Scoffing, Melvin turned toward his driveway, three doors down from Serena's. "Want to come in for a snack? Mom said something about bagel prune bites this morning."

"Noooo thank you," said Serena, sticking out her tongue in disgust and turning toward her house, but Melvin calling her name made her turn back to him.

"I almost forgot! You left this at my house yesterday." After reaching into his backpack, Melvin pulled out a thick blue book with gold embossed lettering on the spine.

Serena gasped, grabbing it from his hands. "I didn't even notice it was missing!" she squealed excitedly.

"Probably too busy dreaming about Mr. Shields." Melvin was met with a half-hearted glare, but smiled widely and asked, "By the way, is there anything you want me to ask him about tomorrow? I can at least play detective, can't I?"

Giggling, Serena cradled the book in one arm, and reached her free hand up to tug on one of two identical blonde ponytails on top of her head. "Sure! Ask if he prefers 'Prince Charming' or 'Knight in Shining Armor.'"

Serena watched Melvin disappear into his home, shaking his head at her. She turned on her heels and headed toward her own home, her eyes glued to the beautiful book. It was her prized possession, given to her by her grandmother for her sixth birthday: an antique copy of the Brothers Grimm's Fairy Tales, published in 1857, and still in great condition. At least, it had been when she'd been given it. Over the past nine years, Serena had read and reread the stories. Now, the pages were slightly torn and most of the gold embossing on the cover had been rubbed off. She didn't mind though; it was still the most beautiful book she'd ever laid eyes on.

The cracked spine opened immediately to "Brier Rose," her favorite of all the tales and one that she had memorized word for word.

"Once upon a time there lived a king and queen," she murmured whimsically to herself, "who very much wanted a child. Then, one day, the queen gave birth to a little girl and the entire kingdom rejoiced. They named her Brier Rose . . ." She turned a couple pages. "Brier Rose touched the spindle of the spinning wheel and fell into a deep slumber. The kingdom slept along with her and for one hundred years they dreamt while thorns grew up around the castle. . . . When the prince saw the princess lying asleep, he fell immediately in love with her and couldn't help but to kiss her with love's first kiss. Brier Rose opened her eyes and fell in love with the prince before her. . . . And they lived happily ever after."

With a huge grin, Serena closed the book and hugged it to her chest for a moment. Contented, she slipped it into her bag, its usual home, and turned down her driveway, stretching her arms up over her head with an enthusiastic yawn, the bag dangling from her fingers. "Ah, and that makes a lovely seventeen hours before I have to go back to school." Swinging her arms, she began to go over her options for an after-school snack. She'd narrowed it down to either Doritos or Oreos with milk when she reached her house and heard a low mewing from the bushes in front of the porch. Pausing, she furrowed her brow and crouched down in front of her mom's Japanese maple and spotted a small gray kitten sitting calmly beside the trunk.

"Hello, there," Serena cooed at the cat, who blinked at her with wide, reddish eyes, his large ears turned forward. "Are you lost?"

Serena could see a red collar around the kitten's neck with a tiny silver bell and a charm that she hoped would have an address on it. Holding out her hand, she beckoned to the kitten in her sweetest coaxing voice. For a long while, the cat only sat with its tail curled around its paws, analyzing Serena with a calm, studious gaze. "Well, come on," Serena said with the tiniest hint of agitation. "I'm not going to hurt you. Come out of there."

Finally, the cat stood and stretched its back, holding its tail up with an air of pride, and sauntered toward Serena on dainty white feet.

"Well just take your sweet time," Serena murmured when the cat finally got close enough for her to sweep it up in her arms. Instantly the cat began purring and Serena held it against her chest with one hand—it fit nicely in her palm—and checked the little silver charm with the other. "Ah, Puss in Boots, is it?" she said, reading the name on the tag with a chuckle. "I've always wanted to have a cat with that name. So where's your family with the good taste?" She turned the charm over, delighted at first to see that there was an address, but her excitement quickly fell. "Thornrose Lane? But that's on the other side of town! How did you get all the way over here?" Puss in Boots looked up at her innocently, before tapping its wet nose against her chin as if requesting a nice scratch behind its ears. Serena complied with a sigh. "Fine, but at least let me drop off my stuff, okay?"

A minute later, Serena was walking out her door with the kitten held complacently in her arms, having rid herself of the weight of her book bag. She'd considered calling Melvin and asking him to make the long trek with her, but she knew he'd be busy studying and didn't want to distract him.

It was a forty-minute walk and Serena was grateful for the cloudy September sky, which she noted was the same light color as the kitten's fur, and showed no sign of rain. She hoped there would still be daylight by the time she had dropped the kitten off and was heading home.

Finally, Serena found Thornrose Lane, a road that had once been beautiful and busy. Now it had fallen into disrepair—not enough for the city council to worry about, but enough to make Serena nervous as she counted the numbers on the houses. The kitten seemed to grow restless as they walked along, meowing into Serena's ears and pawing at her hair.

"Almost home," Serena said, finally spotting the house that matched the address on Puss's collar. She cringed; the house looked more like a shack.

The yard was enclosed with a short wooden fence that was missing a few planks and looked like it was slowly being pulled apart by blackberry bushes. Where there had once been grass, now only dandelions grew. Moss covered the roof and gutters and the ground was covered in worm-eaten apples from one lone tree. She looked down into the cat's round, red eyes, and felt a tinge of guilt. "Can't blame you for trying to run away," she said, giving Puss one more scratch around the collar. "But maybe wait until you're a bit bigger, alright? It's a big, scary world out there. And you never know when you're going to run into an ogre."

Sighing, she trudged up the walkway, kicking a few stray apples out of her path. Before knocking on the door, Serena checked the little mailbox attached to the wall, hoping that perhaps she'd gotten the wrong house and Puss really belonged in that cute yellow one with white shutters across the street. Serena's breath snagged when she read the little painted sign above the mailbox, not because of the numbers (which still matched Puss's collar), but because of the name she read there.

"Grimm, J.?" she whispered to herself, looking down at Puss in Boots, who seemed to be watching her with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "That's cool. I guess your name originates from more than just your little white feet," Serena murmured, slowly raising her hand and knocking.

She could hear a creaking inside as light footsteps padded toward the door. She heard the clunk of the deadbolt and then the door opened a few inches, a gold chain attached to the doorframe keeping it from opening farther. An old man barely taller than Serena stood on the other side, looking down at her with dark brown, almost black, eyes, one of which he held a single thick lens to, magnifying the eye that peered at her.

Puss meowed once and then began to purr loudly, nuzzling Serena's neck.

"Erm, hi. I think…." Serena said hesitantly, "I found this cat and…."

The man harrumphed and the door closed. Serena could hear the clinking of the chain, before the door opened again and the man stepped aside with a sweep of his arm, which seemed more a force of habit than welcoming.

"Guess you'll be wanting to come in for tea."

"Um, no, that's okay, really," Serena said obligingly, and yet her feet carried her into the small living room anyway. "I just want to return your cat and I'll be on my way. Before it gets dark," she added hastily, jumping when the door slammed and the man bustled over to an old-fashioned cooking stove that sat in the corner, piled high with dirty cast iron skillets. He cleared the clutter and filled a copper teapot with water from an equally dirty-looking faucet, setting it on top of the burner.

Shifting uncomfortably on her feet, Serena set Puss down on the carpet. The cat meowed and looked up at her, nodding slightly as if grateful, and the action seemed so strangely human that it gave Serena goose bumps. She took a moment to survey the room. It took up almost the entire house, it seemed, with only one open door leading off into a back room, which she assumed was a bedroom. Furniture was sparse, only a couple of near-empty bookshelves and a writing desk that contained stacks of books so high they probably once filled the barren shelves. A round rug covered most of the wooden floor, looking as if it had never been vacuumed, and so shredded that she guessed Puss had used it many times to test out his young claws. There were no pictures on the walls or curtains on the windows, and no tables or chairs except for the one chair that sat before the desk. She guessed that the old man ate his meals with his books.

Then the man began speaking and she started nervously.

"He's always bringing home young, idealistic things like you, you know. Thinks he's helping."

Pursing her lips, Serena stepped back toward the door and folded her hands behind her back. "Thanks for your hospitality, but I think I'll just…."

The man sighed, ignoring her, and shifted through a shoebox full of little packets. Serena guessed they were teabags. "Just that ever since we came back, he's seemed awfully lonely. I offered to send him home, but I think he feels some sort of obligation to me. Always trying to find one more guardian, one more princess, one more sorcerer." He paused and looked up, holding the monocle up to his eye again as he looked at her. "He doesn't seem to get that there just aren't princes or princesses or magicians or guardians here. There isn't much of anything here."

Puss meowed and Serena was surprised to find him right at her ankles, looking up at her with those wide red eyes. She found herself feeling sympathetic toward this old man all alone with just his books and his cat, but she tried to shake the feeling off, believing that most hermits preferred it that way.

He was a nice looking man, though, with a much cleaner appearance than his dwelling. He wore brown tweed trousers (that had probably never seen an iron) held up by gold-buckled suspenders, and a white shirt that buttoned to his collarbone. Serena briefly wondered if he had grandkids, or kids at all. Remembering the name on the mailbox, she wondered if he ever read fairy tales to them.

The teakettle whistled and the man busied himself pouring the steaming water into two little porcelain cups. He was balding on top of his head, Serena noticed, and his single eyepiece dangled from his collar, ready to be used at his convenience. When he held one of the cups toward her, she took it and held it but didn't drink.

"Thank you, but I really should get going."

The man was holding up the little eyeglass now, looking at her again, almost suspiciously. "There's something about this one, though," he murmured, then frowned and spoke louder, "You don't know why he brought you here, do you?"

"Puss in Boots?" Serena squeaked. "Actually it was me who brought—"

"Have you ever imagined what it would be like to be stuck in a fairy tale?"

Serena blinked, her palms sweating. Licking her lips, she shakily nodded her head. "Every day of my life," she whispered truthfully.

The man smiled and turned away, his friendly countenance restored. "Yes," he said. "Me too." Chuckling, he hobbled over to the single chair and collapsed into it, seeming a hundred years old in the dark room. "But I was once, actually. A grand tale. A world of grand tales." Serena watched as his dark eyes gazed up at the bare window, staring somewhere far away and long ago. He was entranced and she was hesitant to break the spell that had befallen him so suddenly, though the shadows in the room told her she should have already started home. She set her untouched tea down on an empty shelf.

"Everything there was full of color and song and life. Every damsel was beautiful. Every lad was courageous. There are days when I would give anything to go back there, you know. But it can't be." He returned his eyes to Serena, startling her slightly; she'd thought he'd forgotten she was even standing there. "I had to leave, you see. I had to leave in order to protect the stories. It was the only way. If I were to go back, everything would be in danger, and then… there would be no more tales." He trailed off, leaving Serena to fidget uncomfortably.

"Sir, it's getting dark, and I need to get home. My mom will be worried."

He nodded, his lips curving, but his next words didn't acknowledge her polite plea. "I would so like to know what's happening in that world, though. Perhaps… perhaps you would go for me? And then come back and tell me everything? Just… so I could know, one more time. I'll even write you a story, if you'd like."

Serena wanted to tell him she had no idea what he was talking about. She wanted to tell him he was delusional. She wanted to ask if she could help him find his medication. But she smiled as kindly as she could, remembering how her mother had always taught her to be kind to the elderly, and to listen to them because they had more to tell than anyone else.

She was beginning to think that this man had nothing to tell worth listening to, but she didn't say that, either, even in her own head.

"Sure," she said, finally. "But some other time, okay? When it's not so late." She wasn't really sure that she would ever be returning to this little hovel, even as she was saying that she would. She figured that the man would forget her by tomorrow morning anyway. She felt Puss purring against her leg and wondered if the little kitten would forget her, too.

The man chuckled quietly and held up his eyeglass to look at her one last time. "You're familiar with all the fairy tales, I take it. Puss only brings home the girls who know all about them already. Or maybe…" He paused and leaned toward her, squinting with speculation. "Maybe you're that one after all…. Has it been sixteen years already?"

"I have to go," Serena whispered, her heart beginning to pound.

"Yes, go, child. You're a good girl. You'll be fine. Don't stay away too long, all right? Don't stay away too long."

Nodding and with a sigh of relief that made her feel slightly ashamed, Serena reached for the doorknob. She almost felt like she should curtsy to the man before she left, or give him some sort of promise of returning, or at least a decent goodbye, but she was feeling too grateful to be leaving his presence. So grateful that she left the house too briskly, too rudely, opening the door with a great intake of air and letting it slam behind her just as the oddest feeling overcame her.

The feeling of being on a rollercoaster at the crest of a hill and plummeting while your stomach jumps up into your throat.

She squealed and backed up against the door, throwing her arm over her eyes as a bright light invaded them. She expected it to disappear, like lightning or the bright flicker of a light bulb right before it burns out, but the light didn't go away.

Squinting, Serena removed her arm.

It was sunny.

It was mid-day summer sunny.

But that was not the fact that had Serena suddenly trembling.

She was no longer on Thornrose Lane.

She wasn't even in a city. Or a town, for that matter.

The yard of sticker bushes and dandelions and the rotting fence were gone. Only the porch remained seemingly unchanged. Now, stretching out before her in every direction as far as she could see, were farmlands full of golden stalks that grew taller than she was. It looked like wheat, though the only wheat she'd ever seen was in a picture on a cereal box. The sky above was pale blue without a cloud in sight and the sun directly overhead signaled high noon. That blue soon became the only color Serena could see besides the golden yellow of the field. The land was flat, barren, and lonely, with only the tall, whimsical stalks of gold to decorate the landscape.

Serena gulped, her heart pounding furiously and sweat beading up on her forehead. Reaching her hand along the wooden door, she sought out the doorknob, closed her eyes, and turned.

But the knob didn't move. The door was locked.

* * *

**_BIG NEWS! _**I'm going to be published! My debut novel, CINDER, is scheduled for release in Spring 2012 under my real name, Marissa Meyer. Please see my profile for more details!


	2. Into the Castle

Miles and piles of gratitude to everyone who reviewed chapter one! Your comments always make my day (week!). Please know that all suggestions and criticism have been duly noted, and continue to let me know how I can improve this story and my writing in general.

Thanks a ton to Phantasy Star, who has taken time from her busy med-studying to edit this fic and provide a wealth of helpful suggestions.

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 2: Into the Castle

_On the third day the messenger returned and said, "I have not been  
able to find a single new name, but when I was approaching a high  
mountain in the corner of the woods, I saw a little house."_  
from Rumpelstiltskin

Serena turned around to stare at the door, unable to believe that the old man had locked her out. Raising her hand, she knocked hard on the wood, anxiety gripping her. A moment later, when no sound came from inside the house and she was about ready to go hunting for an axe (not that she thought she would find one), something made her pause. Frowning, she stepped back to the edge of the porch, looking at the shack, and noticed that, like the world around it, the shack had changed as well. While it still held many similarities to the little hovel on Thornrose Lane, this house appeared to have been built from unpainted scrap wood, and its short chimney was now on the right side, not the left. Walking to the edge of the house, she noted a stack of fire kindling against the outside wall. A few dark windows showed signs of makeshift draperies, possibly towels, whereas the other house had had nothing. A water well stuck out of the ground, just to the side of a dusty dirt road that meandered away from the porch, hiding behind the rows of wheat.

Serena brushed forward, taking a moment to peer into the nearest window, but it was caked with soot and only a tiny gap appeared between the ledge and the curtain for her to see through. She thought she made out the tops of a few tables from where she stood. Confused, and immensely curious, she walked back to the door again, pausing only at the wooden mailbox attached to the side. She squinted at the faded lettering that no longer read "Grimm, J.," but, rather, "Grimm, W."

"No way," she breathed. With a deep breath, Serena raised her fist and knocked soundly again, and again was met with silence as she listened for footsteps within. Sighing in agitation, she turned away with a toss of her hair and fell sulkily against the door.

"Okay, just stay calm," she muttered. "First we have to figure out where we are and find the nearest bus stop. And a phone. We'll call Mom and get her credit card number to purchase a ticket and…"

The door opened and she screamed and jumped away.

"What do you want?" a gruff voice stormed from behind her.

Spinning around, Serena came face to face with an old man, but not the same old man that had been in the tiny house on Thornrose Lane. Though they looked like they could have been brothers. This man had the same big nose and squat figure and balding head, but his build was heavier and his clothes looked like they needed to be sorely mended.

His dark eyes swept over Serena with an air of contempt and he snorted before Serena could get out a word. "Did that damn cat bring home another one?" he spat bitterly, then muttered to himself, "Never should have written him. More trouble than he's worth." Straightening his shoulders, he looked Serena squarely in the eye, but she found that she still couldn't stop gaping at him despite the look of disdain he was giving her. "Now you listen up before you come prattling around my door again. I don't have time for lunatics and daydreamers. I don't care how pretty or sweet you think you are. I know your type and you're all the same selfish, jealous little girls that you were two hundred years ago. Now I don't know what you've heard or what you think you know about fairy godmothers and evil stepmothers and—" he paused and snorted bitterly, "Prince Charmings! But whatever you're looking for, you aren't going to find it by prowling around my door. I don't need your help. Don't _want_ your help. Now get lost!" he yelled, and slammed the door on her.

Serena heard his heavy footsteps plodding away and felt her shock slowly turn into irritation. "That's the problem! I _am_ lost!" she screamed. Then she stood seething and wondering if he would come back if she knocked again, but she doubted it. The silence manifested itself as a growl within the girl's throat. Marching forward, she kicked the base of the door hard with her foot. "Well, I hope you have the lonely life you obviously want, old man!" Furiously, she stomped off the porch. "You could at least point me toward a bus stop." She noticed a light flicker inside the house and, all concerns for personal privacy gone, placed both hands on a windowsill and pulled her head up to look inside.

The glass was just as filthy as all the others, making her view silt-covered and dark, but the curtain was much shorter than the one in the front window. With wide eyes Serena looked at a room stacked high with books, papers, and journals of all sizes. A small desk in the corner held feather pens and inkbottles. On the other side of the room was a plain bed with crumpled, folded, and creased papers spread out over every inch of the firm-looking mattress. Many of the notes had slipped onto the wooden floor.

It took a moment for Serena to notice the man as he stooped before one bookshelf, flipping through a thick book, his back to the window. Serena squinted, watching his hunched shoulders rise and fall with an exaggerated sigh. He slammed the text shut, ignoring a cloud of dust as it flew into his face, and slowly slid the book onto the shelf, but, try as she might, Serena could not make out the gold lettering on the side.

Then the man turned to something hanging on the far wall that Serena hadn't noticed before. Squinting, she realized it was a mirror, but the man's reflection was dark and hazy as he peered into it with angry eyes. Serena watched, holding her breath, and saw the image in the glass warp like a funhouse mirror and turn to inky black before two faint lights appeared as if very far away. But as they grew larger and brighter, they took on the distinctive shape of two reddish-gold eyes burning with restrained fury.

Then the man spun around toward Serena.

A startled squeal escaped her lips as Serena jumped back, collapsing to the ground with a thud. Her heart pounded at her ribs. She held still, listening, half-expecting the old man to come charging out of the house with a rifle in hand. And yet, no sound came from inside the one-room shack. With a gulp and exhalation of breath, Serena let her eyes wander to the perfect blue sky above. However, despite the warmth of the sun that Serena could feel against her face, there was a crisp autumn wind that caused the fields to whisper to each other. When her heartbeat had slowed and it was obvious that the old man wasn't going to come out and shoot her after all, Serena pursed her lips together and lifted herself to look through the window again.

She first noticed the mirror, now looking like nothing more than a regular old mirror reflecting the dingy room. The papers that had previously been on the bed were scattered over the floor, making room for the man's crooked form to lie, without any blankets or pillows, on the hard mattress. It didn't look like he would be inclined to move any time soon.

Shaking her head, Serena backed away, letting her hands fall to her sides, thinking she must have imagined the terrifying eyes, like embers in the dark glass. Her previous anger at the man melted away, replaced by something very close to pity. The man was obviously lonely and she couldn't help but wonder how long he had lived alone in this little shack, with nothing but his books and papers to keep him company. Unlike the old man on Thornrose Lane, this one didn't even have a cat for a companion. A sympathetic sigh escaped the girl and just as she found herself considering knocking on his door again and extending an offer of friendship, a great clatter arose far off in the wheat fields. Her interest piqued, her concern for the man momentarily forgotten, Serena turned toward the commotion and hurried toward it.

As she trotted along the road that had curved out of view, listening to the clatter growing louder in the still autumn air, she began to make out the heads of moving, bustling people off in the distance, steadily coming toward her. Their feet trampled loudly on the ground, their voices carried harshly through the serene farmland. It wasn't long before Serena reached the end of her own little path where it met with a larger road, the dirt colliding with gravel. There she waited for the mob that was sure to pass her by, watching curiously as their heads bobbed barely in eyesight.

The first person to round the nearest corner, however, was not one Serena had expected. The man stood at a mere three feet tall and had been hidden completely behind the wheat until that moment.

Normally she would not have been gawking so shamelessly, but never before had Serena seen such a peculiar looking man. He had a sharp pointed nose and chubby cheeks, and his head, though mostly bald, had small tufts of red hair around the ears. Dressed in what could have been considered fine clothes in the Middle Ages, he wore a green velvet tunic and brown and white striped leggings. He seemed to enjoy showing off his grand attire—though not so much the clothes he wore, Serena thought, but rather the jewelry that accompanied it. A fine gold chain hung around his neck, so long it dangled to his belly, and a large emerald ring sat on his right hand, which he made sure to hold proudly in front of his chest, waving from time to time so that the sunlight caught in the gem and sent spots of green glittering along the road before him.

Immediately behind the dwarf swarmed six humans, all of which carried miniature scrolls of paper and short feather pens, each one shouting out questions in hopes that the midget would choose to answer them.

"Have you ever told anybody your true name?"

"Do you plan on seeking custody rights of the child?"

"How was it that you first made the princess's acquaintance?"

"Is it true that you spun the straw into gold, not the princess?"

"Have you given the princess any hints as to your true name?"

"Would you say that you had a troubled childhood?"

However, they were all completely ignored as the little man continued on up the road in his quick-paced stride, a mischievous, sardonic smile on his thin lips.

Following the reporters (as Serena assumed they must be) was an even larger group of people. About twenty or so plainly dressed men and women bustled along in the journalists' wake, all with worried looks upon their faces as they tried desperately to keep up with the parade. They did not talk, but looked frightened and desperate as they searched for glimpses of the little man in front.

"Excuse me?" Serena asked to one middle-aged woman who walked past her, clutching onto the hand of her husband.

They made eye contact, the woman taking a startled breath at being addressed. "Yes?"

Seeing that the couple would not stop walking to speak with her, Serena had to jog to keep up, while attempting to keep from being pushed into the wheat at the same time. "What's going on? Who is that man?"

The lady shook her head, turning away. "He is a very bad man," she spoke with a tone of disgust.

"Why? What did he do?"

The woman broke into sobs and her husband put an arm over her shoulders and looked at Serena with a mixture of irritation and surprise. "Don't you know?"

Feeling nervous beneath his gaze, Serena shrugged and answered, "I'm not really from around here."

Accepting the excuse, the man nodded soberly. "That man has made an evil plot against the first prince and his princess. He now has tricked them into a bargain in which the princess must give him her newborn child!"

Raising an eyebrow in recognition, with an awkward sinking feeling in her stomach, Serena turned toward the front of the crowd and wet her lips. "You know, maybe I have heard of him after all. Let me guess, the princess has to guess his name in order to keep her child?"

"Exactly! And nobody knows what it could be!" the woman screeched angrily, throwing her hands into the air.

"He won't tell a soul," the man added.

Serena felt a little dizzy and rubbed a finger against a temple. "This can't be happening."

"And now he's on his way to the castle, for the final stage of his cruel plan. Can you imagine? That poor, defenseless child, being taken by such a heartless fiend!"

"What castle?"

"Why—that one!" the woman exclaimed, gesturing forward.

Serena looked up and gasped. She couldn't help but stop in the middle of the road, her blue eyes taking a moment to adjust to the sight of an enormous stone castle not far ahead. It consisted of a beautiful glass dome, four tall pointed towers at its corners, and rows upon rows of glittering windows of all colors. Surrounding the castle stood a large but simple town that they were fast approaching. A dark and beautiful forest grew on one side, more farmlands spread out to the other, and a range of snow-capped mountains lurked far to her left.

"Oh. _That_ castle," she whispered to herself, taking the time to let the vision set in, before skipping ahead once more to reach the crowd before they disappeared into the town streets.

Walking with the group behind the reporters (who were slowly becoming frustrated with the lack of information the small man would part with), Serena looked around the city with wide eyes. Windows and doors opened as they passed, men of all ages peering outside to see the commotion. Many appeared with curiosity, until they would gasp in fear and worry and duck back inside. Frowning, Serena crept up close to the man and his wife again.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, again," she began. "But is it just me—or are there no women here?"

"There won't be any women in the streets of this city today," explained the woman. "All the immediate noblewomen of the kingdom are preparing for tonight's ball."

"A ball that probably won't happen! Not now that he's here!" her husband fumed.

"Don't talk that way!" the lady hissed, and they began to bicker quietly between themselves.

Serena fell back again in the group, trying to take in the scenery of the city. All of the houses, painted in muted hues of blue, yellow, and green, were lined up side by side, with hardly a gap between them. Most houses stood two to three stories in height. Every window was adorned with a box of late summer flowers and white draperies behind the clean glass. Serena noticed that the stony road had changed to cobblestone at the entrance to the town.

Up ahead, in a large courtyard before the entrance to the castle, a great clock tower soared high above the town's roofs. Carved of deep red wood and with a face made of mirrored glass and hands of gold and silver, the clock stood out like a jewel in the quaint town.

The crowd circled around the clock tower and Serena forced herself to keep up with them, still trying to watch the great hands counting off the seconds. Even from looking at the clock from way below in the courtyard, she judged that the minute hand must have been as long as her body.

"Oh!" Gasping, Serena pulled back upon having run face-first into the man's back. Looking up, she could hear a quarrel just ahead. They had already come to the large wooden gate that opened into the castle courtyards. Before the crowd there hovered two finely dressed guards bedecked in metal armor from head to foot, each holding out a tall spear to bar the dwarf's passage.

"You may not pass!" one yelled from within a steel helmet.

"I will do as I please," the midget wheezed in a cranky voice. Creeping around to the side of the group, Serena desperately sought a better view.

Slowly, the dwarf raised his right hand, straight and outstretched before his face, and each guard flew backwards, hitting the wooden gate painfully behind them. With a thud and clang, they both slumped over, motionless. The crowd and reporters gasped and cowered backward.

Without moving his hand, the short man took a few steps forward and the wooden doors began to creak and rumble, slowly opening to either side.

Satisfied, the dwarf tossed his shoulders back and proceeded.

The rest of the followers, journalists and citizens alike, stood and stared in awe, many trembling with fear.

"Oh . . . is there no one that can save us from his cruelty?" one elderly woman muttered faintly, as the doors began to rattle and close again.

Serena, overcome with curiosity, jumped forward, dodging past the reporters, and lunged between the doors before they could close. She tumbled out on the other side, landing with a grunt on a stone walkway. When she looked up she expected to see a pack of burly guards pointing sharp objects in her direction, but instead found that there was no one around. No guards, no dwarfs, no townspeople. Sitting up, Serena dusted off her hands, murmuring, "I'm starting to feel like Alice in Wonderland."

Hoping that she wouldn't be met with a guillotine-happy queen, she took a moment to survey the courtyard. The area within the stone wall was paved with black and white marble with purple clovers blooming in the cracks between each stone. The walls were covered with vines of ivy, though even those were often hidden behind a row of tall bushes, sculpted into the shapes of chess pieces. The courtyard continued in both directions, eventually rolling around either side of the castle.

A single door stood in front of Serena, an ornately carved redwood door that rose a massive twelve feet high, with glittering stained glass windows on either side. Standing, Serena moved forward, listening to her tennis shoes thud against the path. Placing both hands on the door, she pushed and it swung open, easy and soundless.

It was darker inside the castle, though not by much. Light from the colorful windows pooled on the floor and the broad hallway had been lit by large sconces that lined the walls, casting orange flickering light from floor to ceiling. The floor was laid out like a black and white checkerboard, with a line of narrow, ornate carpets stretching straight down the center. A series of doors lined each wall, with a few gigantic paintings hung in between the light fixtures.

Serena took a few hesitant steps into the hallway. "Shouldn't there be knights and nobles and royalty walking around? Or at least maids and butlers?" she muttered. "I suppose it's a good thing, though, that I haven't run into anyone yet. They would probably have me arrested for trespassing, or worse." Unconsciously, she smoothed her skirt down around her legs.

A commotion down the hallway caught her ear. With a renewed sense of curiosity, Serena quickened her steps and jogged toward the noise, as quietly as she could. She soon came to a large room where many people stood, silently watching the events playing up near the front. Looking around, Serena could see that the majority of the occupants were dressed plainly, the women in simple black cotton dresses and the men in black and white tunics, and Serena wondered if these were the illusive servants of the castle.

Pushing her way through the crowd, she could hear a woman's voice calling out seemingly meaningless sounds and syllables, before a loud, nasal tone would return with one word.

"No!"

Serena soon found herself standing near the front of the audience. Two tall chairs sitting high on a central platform, upholstered in red and trimmed with gold fringe, buttons, and ribbons, suggested that she had found the castle's throne room. The platform was carpeted, unlike the rest of the tiled room, with a deep red broadloom. The surrounding walls were high, rising up toward the sky to be met with a circular stained-glass dome that allowed the sunlight to filter through in colorful pillars and splash against the floor.

Seated in the thrones was an elderly couple. They were richly dressed in fine robes. The woman had long, thick black hair and sat stiffly in a tight fitting bodice, though her yellow skirt billowed extravagantly down past her ankles. Her right hand was balled into a fist on her lap, the other holding onto the edge of a pink baby cradle that sat between the two thrones. The man, his shock of white hair nearly as long as the woman's and held down by a thick gold crown that had the emblem of a crescent moon displayed prominently on top, sat motionless with his arms rested on those of the chair. His face, that was just beginning to show wrinkles in his age, was drawn into a horribly angry frown. Flanking the king and queen stood two young men, each looking to be in their late teens or early twenties, each scowling.

Standing before was a handsome young man who could not have been past his mid-twenties, though his long hair was already silvery-white like that of the king, and a pretty blonde-haired girl beside him. The girl appeared both terrified and furious, both hands clutched together over her chest, her blue eyes pleading as she stared at a familiar, child-sized man.

"Dex?" she asked, wringing her hands.

"No."

"Jack?"

"No."

"Beelzebub?"

"No."

"Loop? Jared? Abifellowman?"

"No. No. No." The short man cackled evilly. "Any more guesses, Your Highness?" he taunted, tugging on a patch of orange hair.

The lady stomped her foot in irritation. "But I've tried every name in the kingdom!"

"And none have been mine!" The dwarf raised both of his arms. "Now give me your firstborn child, just as you should have three nights ago on the day of her birth. You have no other choice."

"Stop this!" the young silver-haired man yelled, stepping between the girl and the dwarf. "That is enough! You may not take our daughter from us. I command you to leave, you fiend! Stop terrorizing my wife and family!"

"She made a bargain with me! In return for spinning straw into gold and saving _her_ life, as well as making her your _wife,_ I become the owner of her firstborn child. _That_ child!" he screeched, pointing toward the cradle. As if in response, a shrill crying erupted from the small bed, and the queen lifted the baby to hold her tight against her chest.

"You are not the owner of that child. That child is mine! She is my blood!" the man yelled hysterically.

The intruder only shook his head. "You are gravely mistaken. She belongs to me now. Move aside!"

"Guards! Arrest that man!" the king cried, standing from his throne. His face was flushed red as he glared at the midget. "Today was to be a day of celebration; a feast and a ball not only to honor the christening of my granddaughter, but also to serve as an engagement ceremony for my son. You will not ruin this day! I will see you hung first!"

The short man only shook his head, a large grin on his face. "You all believe that you can outwit me?" He laughed as two guards rushed forward, grabbing him by the arms and lifting him into the air. But the villain's free hands spread out wide, his fingers stretching away from his palms, and instantaneously the guards let go of their capture and went flying backward, landing with a clatter against the floor. "I can have all of you dead as I please! Now, give me the child!"

The queen held the baby protectively against her bosom, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "Is there nothing we can do?" she whispered to her husband.

His frustration growing, the dwarf walked forward until he stood on the platform, only a few feet from the baby's parents. "Give me that child," he hissed, his eyes staring at the frightened young woman as she cowered behind her husband.

"You're the one who's gravely mistaken," Serena declared, stepping away from the audience. "You will not have that child, sure as your name is _Rumpelstiltskin!_"


	3. Masquerade

_News: **The Professional** won first place for UM Romance in the smfanfiction dot net annual contest, and **More Than Ice Cream** came in third! Thanks so much to everyone who voted! Be sure to place your vote for the Fanfic of the Year, going on now, and nominate your fav fics for the 2006 awards!_

_Many thanks to Phantasy Star for her superb editing skills!_

_Remember that severe-OOC-ness you were warned about in chapter one?_ Here. It. Comes.

_Enjoy and please review!_

The House on Thornrose Lane  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 3: Masquerade  
_The Wise Women's gifts were all fulfilled on the girl,  
for she was so beautiful, well behaved, friendly, and intelligent  
that everyone who saw her had to love her._  
from Brier Rose

The evil dwarf whirled around, his eyes searching the crowd. Serena fearlessly stepped out in front of the audience, her hands clenched at her sides.

"Your name is Rumpelstiltskin!" she repeated.

His jaw dropped, his face flushing a bright red. "You . . . you . . ." he stuttered, his eyes burning furiously.

"You cannot have that child," Serena said firmly, her sense of justice giving her a courage she was not altogether used to. "She will stay with her rightful parents, where she belongs."

"You spied on me!" he began to cry hysterically. "The birds told you! The wind told you! The devil himself told you!"

"Leave now, _Rumpelstiltskin!_" Serena continued, ignoring his cries.

"Rumpelstiltskin . . . Rumpelstiltskin . . . Rumpelstiltskin . . . _Stop saying that name!_" he cried, covering his ears and shaking with madness, chanting the name over and over again.

The young blonde woman stepped out from behind her husband, her eyes filled with renewed courage. "Yes. Leave now, Rumpelstiltskin."

An anguish-filled screech echoed throughout the room, tearing through the walls as Rumpelstiltskin began to hop up and down, stomping in anger. "I hate you! I hate you all!" The ground rumbled and shook as he screamed, tearing at his hair and large, red ears, before he suddenly stomped so hard that one leg broke through the tiled floor. Serena squealed and the audience stepped back in fear as the world shook and rattled beneath them. Enraged, Rumpelstiltskin grabbed hold of his ears and ripped himself in two just as the earth beneath him opened up and he fell into the crevice, his screams drowned out by the rushing, crumbling land as it glued itself back together just as fast as it had opened.

There was a silence in which no one moved or breathed. A small, almost undetectable crack in the black and white tiles was the only sign that the dwarf had been there at all.

"And he was never heard from again," Serena whispered.

The silence of the room was broken by the whimpering of an infant child, blissfully ignorant of her own near doom. The royal family slowly moved their eyes from the empty spot in the middle of the room to the girl with the strange clothes and hairstyle before them.

Suddenly, the child's mother straightened her back, her shoulders thrusting backward in a gathering of strength, before she rushed forward, lifting her skirt as she jogged toward Serena. With a small sob, she fell to her knees and took both of Serena's hands into her own and showered them with kisses.

Serena shuffled uncomfortably.

"Thank you! Thank you so much! You saved my daughter's life!"

"It . . . it was nothing . . . really," Serena muttered, trying to pull away.

The woman was joined by her husband, who laid a calming hand on his wife's shoulder, silently prompting her to stand. With a tear-streaked face, she did so, though still holding tightly onto Serena's hands. The prince bowed, a smile creasing his face and lighting a twinkle in his pale blue eyes.

"Excuse my wife's forwardness, but you have done a great thing for her, for myself, and for my kingdom," he said, prying the woman's hands off of Serena. "Please, what is your name, and what can we do to repay you?"

Serena pursed her lips together. "My name is Serena, and there isn't anything that I want. I'm glad that I could help."

"Nonsense!" the king called from his platform. "You have saved my kingdom from total destruction. Tonight you shall be the guest of honor at our royal masquerade! Yet another reason to celebrate!"

The servants burst into applause, but Serena held up her hands in protest. "I really think that _total destruction_ might be a bit over exaggerated . . ."

"But we won't have a ball at this rate," the king continued, ignoring her. "Go on, get to work, all of you! There are preparations to be made!" The king waved his tall staff in the air and all of the occupants of the room darted out into the castle, many hustling toward the front hallway, while still others found their way through curtained doorways and passages along the walls.

Serena chewed on her lip, watching as the room was all but deserted.

"I am Prince Malachite," said the young man before her, "the eldest prince of Aysel Kingdom, and this is my wife, Princess Mina. Please, come meet my family." Serena allowed herself to be led to the stage, where Malachite continued, "Lady Serena, meet my father and mother, King Artemis and Queen Luna of Aysel."

Unsure, Serena curtsied, quite awkwardly, to each of them. "Um… very pleased to meet…"

"The pleasure is all ours, pretty girl!" King Artemis exclaimed, jumping from his throne and wrapping his arms around her in an enormous hug. Meanwhile, the queen carefully handed the baby girl over to Princess Mina, watching her coo quietly in her mother's loving arms before turning to a dazed Serena. Peeling her husband away, the queen kissed Serena on both cheeks, smiling kindly.

"You may stay as long as you like. If you wish, I will give you one of my sons to be your husband, a gift of our gratitude."

Serena's eyes widened, her face flushing pink. "Er . . . that won't be necessary, Your Majesty. But thanks, and all."

"Speaking of my brothers," Prince Malachite continued, threading his arm through Serena's, "this is Prince Nephlite, the second born." He gestured to a tall, muscled man whose auburn hair fell becomingly into ocean blue eyes as he smiled gratefully at Serena. She found herself trying to loosen the knot in her throat. "And the fourth son, Prince Jadeite." Standing beside the other throne was a boy exactly opposite of his older brother, with a willowy figure, pale yellow hair, and fair skin. He stood tall, but smiled shyly at Serena whose heart continued to beat faster by the moment, the queen's offer becoming more and more temping.

"Sadly, two of my sons are gone for the weekend," Queen Luna informed her, trading smiles between the three princes. "The middle and youngest both hate dancing, and avoid attending any such masquerades as those that we will be holding tonight, for fear that they would be forced to flatter any young ladies from the neighboring kingdoms. They're out hunting, though I do hope that they will return soon as to meet your acquaintance, Lady Serena."

Grinning, Serena nodded. "Thank you. I appreciate your hospitality." She turned to face Mina and the baby girl. "And who is this?" she asked sweetly, tickling the infant.

Mina smiled lovingly down on her daughter. "This is Princess Cytherea." She hugged her daughter even closer. "She is unknowingly indebted to you as well."

With a shake of her head, Serena looked away. "Please, I don't want to be repaid for anything. Knowing that I helped this child is plenty thanks for me."

"What a noble gesture!" the king cried. "But it has already been decided; you are to attend the engagement masquerade this evening. Though certainly not in those clothes," he commented, eyeing her school uniform suspiciously. "Servants!" He clapped his hands twice and four young women appeared from behind a hanging curtain. "Take this girl to our nicest suite and have her cleaned and fitted for the ball this evening. I will have an escort sent to your room at seven o'clock. If there is anything you need or would like, my servants will be happy to assist you."

Before she could speak, Serena found herself being swept away by two of the young ladies, their hands picking at her clothes and hair before they had even reached the hidden doorway.

* * *

Serena sighed contentedly, sinking into the steaming bath water until the surface reached her temples. Tilting her head back, she ran her hands through her hair, feeling it slip through her fingers to float back to the surface. With a deep breath she dunked her head back into the tub, blowing out a few bubbles before emerging again and sitting up with a splash. She set her arms up on the sides of the tub, opening her eyes to look around the room.

It was the most elegant bedroom she had ever known. The walls were painted a deep forest green, the tapestries were done up in thick cream-colored velvet, and the bed (which she could not see from her bathing alcove) was nearly twice the size of her own queen-size bed at home, covered in ivory and gold blankets, pillows, and throws. Plush, colorful carpets accented the cedar floors, defining different parts of the room, from the sleeping area to the dressing parlor to her cozy bathroom.

The bathing room, though not closed off from the rest of the quarters, was nicely tucked away around a corner, allowing privacy from the maids she could hear puttering around the parlor. Though they had been relentless in combing her hair and stripping her of her clothes, Serena had finally convinced the women to leave her be after preparing her bath. At first they had stubbornly refused, with the intent of bathing her themselves, until she had all but screamed at them to go away—at which they finally scurried off in fright. Now they were undoubtedly making themselves busy by setting out her dress for the evening.

She couldn't help but grin foolishly.

She'd never had attendants. Nor had she bathed in an antique porcelain tub. Nor had she ever met a king, a queen, or an entire set of princes. Nor had she ever met a fictional, fairy-tale man. Why would she have? She was only a normal teenager who dreamt about normal teenage stuff. Closing her eyes, she imagined she was dreaming now and that when she opened her eyes she would be warped back to reality. She would be scolded by her teachers for falling asleep during a lecture.

But when she opened her eyes again, she was still there, lounging in the perfectly warm porcelain bathtub, which seemed to be, judging by the scent, more lavender oil than water. It made her skin feel oily, but smooth and refreshed all the same, so she didn't mind. It was better than a history lesson, in any case.

She took a moment to look out the grand window that stretched from floor to ceiling. The glass was naturally fogged so that no one could see in, but the sunlight could still filter across the room. The vague shapes of the castle's towers and green hills filled the view to the horizon where it was met with opaque blue skies.

"So you're the girl?"

Serena turned to the small voice, expecting to see one of the maids peeking around the corner into her sanctuary. Instead, her eyes met with the sight of a six-inch-tall girl with purple dragonfly wings hovering a foot over the bath water.

Serena screamed, her relaxed muscles tensing as she sat up, splashing a great deal of water on the floor as she did so.

The creature screamed too, flying back from Serena as quickly as she could. "Don't do that!" she screeched. "You'll get water on my wings!"

Clutching her hand over her heart, Serena stared wide-eyed at the girl. "What are you?"

One of the attendants came scurrying around the corner, her nervous eyes looking around curiously. "Mi'lady? What has happened? Oh, hello little one."

The girl bowed in mid-air. "Good day."

The servant turned back to Serena. "Mi'lady?" she asked again.

Serena glanced from the creature to the servant, before slowly shaking her head. "Nothing. I'm fine. It's okay," she said shakily. The maid looked speculative, but curtsied and went back into the main quarters.

Regaining her breath, Serena shifted onto her knees, placing her hands on the rim of the tub to steady herself as the tiny girl returned to the edge of the tub and landed on a little dish that held a bar of soap. The creature looked human in every way and had ebony hair cropped below her ears, dark eyes, and a purple dress. She had violet, iridescent wings sprouting out of her back and tall, pointed ears jutting up from her shaggy hair. Even her skin glowed with a golden tint.

Serena blinked in awe. The girl blinked back.

"What are you?" she asked again.

"A fairy, of course," the girl answered. "You act as though you've never seen one."

"I haven't ever seen one," Serena confirmed, lifting a hand to tug on one of the girl's wings. The fairy yelped and pulled away.

"Hey! Those are sensitive, you know."

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't know."

"Bah! Never seen a fairy? You must come from a faraway land after all."

Serena nodded in agreement. "Very far away. At least, I think it is. Are fairies common around here?"

The tiny girl shrugged again, folding her arms over her chest. "We aren't as common as we used to be, but there's still the occasional fae wandering around. Fairy godmothers are becoming more popular around the populated areas, what with more work for them to do." She nodded, as if to emphasize the truth of her words, and smiled impishly at Serena. "My name is Hota. What's yours?"

"Serena."

Hota clasped her hands behind her back. "Well, Serena, it is a pleasure to meet you. I suppose you're ready for this evening's events?"

Serena wasn't sure what there was to be ready for, but she smiled anyway. "Yes, I know it will be grand and exciting!"

Hota beamed. "Yes, exciting! Excitement is key. I'm glad that you see that." She had suddenly become energized, and took to the air again, twirling around enthusiastically. "I guess I'll leave you to finish preparing. Just make sure to eat something substantial, either before the ball or during. You'll need your energy. Saving stories is hard work."

Sitting back on her heels, Serena tilted her head to the side. "Saving . . . stories?"

"Savings stories, yes, of course."

Serena giggled as if it was a joke. "I didn't know there were stories in need of saving."

Hota looked puzzled for a moment, her head tilting to match Serena's expression. "But you are the Chosen One from the faraway land? You already helped Princess Mina. That proved it." Seeing that Serena was still confused, Hota sighed, shaking her head. "Never mind. Just do as we say and you'll be fine. And don't dilly-dawdle!"

"Who's 'we'? And what responsibilities do I have?"

"No time to explain now, I have to go check on the girl to make sure things are going as planned. Finish bathing and get dressed now—you won't want to be late and miss the all the drama!" With a wink, Hota turned and fluttered off toward the main bedroom quarters.

Ever more confused, Serena reached for a towel, knowing her bath wasn't going to end as relaxing as it had begun.

* * *

The full-length mirror lied to her as Serena stared back at her reflection. Jaw agape and eyes dancing in astonished delight, she couldn't help but feel like she was staring into a painting instead of a mirror. A painting of a beautiful, elegant, royal princess . . . a painting most certainly not of her.

But it was a mirror. And it was her reflection.

With a dazed look she slowly spun around, turning her head to peer over her shoulder.

The dress that the attendants had chosen for her fit like a dream, hugging the curves it was supposed to and flaring away from those it wasn't. Though simple in design, Serena still felt as though she, too, could be royalty in that dress. The seamless silver bodice tucked just right against her chest, making her breasts appear much larger than they were (a task she thought could never be accomplished), while slimming her torso without making it difficult to breathe. The back of the silver top was open down to her waist with decorative stringed crystals lacing it together. The sleeveless garment was accompanied by a deep red velvet skirt that flared away from her hips, a petticoat that made the skirt poof out and swish around her legs, and the delightful silver shoes that one could only see when she gingerly lifted the skirt up with one hand. She even had elbow-high gloves of the same maroon velvet.

She turned back to see her front in the mirror again. The servants had styled her hair into a complex basket weave, lined with silver and red ribbons that ran into a long four-stranded braid down to her mid-back. She didn't have any idea how they had done it, but it had taken the better part of an hour and now she thought she might cry when they had to take it out. She'd never loved her hair so much—or her body, for that matter.

In a moment of reminiscence, Serena wished Darien Shields was there. She could only imagine the look of astonishment on his face. Even the most popular guy at Crossroads High would have to notice her in a dress like this. The thought made her giggle joyfully.

The four attendants, all standing around her to admire their work, jumped together at a knock at the door. Instantly they were in motion again, dragging Serena by her wrists to stand before the doorway, continuously tittering together about her escort and the dance. Serena wondered if they ever ran out of energy. They reminded her of school children.

Within seconds they were lined up like a hallway in front of her, two on her left and two on her right. The one farthest from Serena had her hand on the doorknob. Serena inhaled a deep breath, lifting her chin high and sucking in her stomach. Her mouth was suddenly dry, but she couldn't understand why. A part of her imagined Darien standing on the other side of that doorway, his jaw falling down as he set his eyes upon her.

"Mi'Lady Serena, Guest of Honor," the attendant beside the door said, "May I present your escort for the evening."

Serena straightened her back nervously as the door began to open.

_Please, let him be handsome . . ._

The servant opened the door for all to see.

"Sir Seiya of Aysel Kingdom."

Serena's breath caught in her throat. He was indeed handsome.

She tried desperately to hide her gawking, for he was stunningly gorgeous, more so even than the three princes she had met earlier that day.

He was of towering height (close to six and a half feet, she guessed, compared to her measly 4'11"), with tanned skin, broad shoulders, and defined muscles that his black tunic draped casually off of. Shiny black hair combed into a low tail fell a few inches below his shoulders, while loose strands framed the stern features of his face. His lips were firm and his nose long and thin. His eyes were of the richest charcoal gray Serena had ever seen, reminding her of storm clouds about to burst. His gaze was a haunting mixture of anger and sadness and regret, and yet covered with a layer of apathy. Strangest of all his features, and perhaps most fascinating, was the small tattoo of a single black spiraling teardrop beneath his left eye.

Gulping, Serena felt suddenly very plain and dull in the dress and hairstyle she had loved so dearly moments before. Watching the man's eyes, she noticed that his composure didn't falter at all as his gaze swept over her. In fact, it only appeared even darker, and her self-esteem dropped. She reasoned that he was used to seeing girls much more beautiful than her and that she shouldn't be surprised at his lack of interest. Still, that revelation didn't do much for her confidence.

Sir Seiya took a hand out of his pocket and stretched it out to her. "The dance awaits us," he said, in a tone that could only be described as bored. His voice, on the other hand, reminded Serena of those 'smoky voices' the heroes in romance novels always had.

Nodding shakily, Serena pushed her feet forward, reaching out to take the hand he had offered her. She didn't know what she was supposed to say and he didn't seem interested in anything she would say anyhow, and so she kept quiet. But when her fingers slid into his large palm, she felt her breath catch in surprise. His skin was as cold as ice. Serena allowed him to draw her into the hallway before hooking his arm with hers.

Back in the room, the maids broke into giggles and swoons just before they shut the door behind Serena and her escort, leaving her alone in the hallway with the mysterious man. However, before she had time to be nervous, he had already begun to stride down the corridor with her in tow.

At first she found it hard to keep up with him, given his long legs and quick stride, but after she found a rhythm in her step she floated beside him casually, if not gracefully.

"Are you . . ." she began, then stopped when her voice came out in only a whisper. Inhaling a deep breath, she wet her mouth and started again. "Are you a prince too?"

"No." He sounded uninterested, but at least not angry. She had had a feeling he may be angered by such a question, though she didn't know why he would.

"Oh." She wished he would say something, anything. They kept walking and she was glad her shoes had only small heals, not the three inches she had originally wanted to wear but that the servants had warned her against. "My name is Serena."

He didn't even nod in acknowledgment. She turned her eyes to him patiently for a moment, then frowned and turned to admire the large paintings hanging on the walls, lit by majestic candelabras. For a moment Serena wished she could stop and look at each piece of art more closely, but didn't dare ask her escort if they could. Instead, she made a mental note to take the time to look at them when she had a free moment.

"Seiya's a nice name," she prodded. He didn't respond, much to her irritation, and Serena was forced to concede that pleasant conversation would not be in the bill for the evening.

They seemed to walk for hours through the hallways of the palace, passing by windows that looked out over the kingdom, rooms full of nothing but sculptures and artwork, like some elite museum, and rooms filled with shelves and shelves of books. As desperately as she tried to remember the location of these rooms, Serena knew she would never be able to find her way through the labyrinth of halls and staircases again.

She eventually began to hear a blur of voices coming up from the wide corridor. Her smile creased expectantly, forgetting the cold man at her side as she waited to see the bustle of royalty and nobles, all excited with their fancy clothes and lively music. Never had Serena been to a real masquerade, and she knew that it wasn't likely she would ever again attend one as grand as this—one literally founded in a land of make believe. For the night she could pretend that she was Cinderella, or perhaps one of the twelve princesses who danced their shoes to pieces every night. It would be a magical, splendid night, as the day had been. And, even if he wasn't as excited to be with her, Serena knew she would enter the ball on the arm of one of the most handsome men in the kingdom.

Finally, Serena began to see more guests heading toward the ball, dressed up and chattering amongst themselves, all migrating into one grand room succeeded by one grand room after another. Each room they entered had more people than the last, and a gigantic doorway that was at least ten times larger than any Serena had seen before. The doors were framed with gold draperies and stained glass windows shared between the adjacent rooms, and followed by a short flight of steps as the guests swept down into the final ballroom. Serena had never imagined she would be in such a luxurious place, and momentarily forgot the man at her side as she let her eyes roam over every extravagant detail.

With the final staircase spread before her, Serena looked out into the ballroom with amazed eyes. Red plush carpet covered the floor, with the exception of the circular dance floor in the center that sparkled like plated gold. An orchestra was spread out over two stages to her left, one on either side of a smaller platform with two high thrones. She could see King Artemis and Queen Luna seated on the thrones, talking to each other as they sipped at glasses filled with berry-colored wine. Tables and chairs littered the floor on the opposite side of the room, many of the banquet tables covered in treats and tasty delights that Serena could smell even from where she stood. She suddenly realized that she hadn't eaten since lunch in the cafeteria, and that seemed ages ago.

The ceilings must have been fifty feet high, and the exquisite murals framing the stained-glass dome reminded Serena of the Sistine Chapel. Two of the walls were draped with gold curtains and sashes and tassels, surrounding large pieces of artwork and mirrors that made the room look even bigger. The wall to her right had another doorway with pillars on either side, lined with armor-suited guards. Serena could see that it led outside, possibly to another entrance of the castle, or maybe into some wonderfully spectacular gardens. Guests were coming in from this entrance as well. She'd never seen so many lovely clothes.

Seiya had guided her down to the bottom of the steps and stopped one stair short of the main floor, possibly taking the time to gawk at the room's décor as well—though she very much doubted that. It didn't seem like much could impress him.

"Oh, is this her?" an unfamiliar voice asked. Serena removed her wandering eyes from the entrance to look at the man below her, whose expression was much more appreciative than Seiya's had been as he gazed at her dress. Without knowing who he was, Serena wished that he had been her escort instead. Her face turned pink.

The man beamed at her, reaching for her left hand as Seiya let it go willingly and the new man kissed the back of it before gently drawing her off of the last step. "Turn around, let me have a look at you," he mused. Serena giggled and did as she was told, spinning beneath his arm. As she stopped to look at him again, she noticed with wonderment how short he was now that she wasn't a step above him. Indeed, he was shorter than _her!_

_Perhaps another dwarf, like Rumpelstiltskin?_ she mused, but he was taller, and much more slender, than the dwarf had been.

Whatever or whoever he was, the man couldn't seem to take his eyes off of her, and that made Serena like him. A lot.

"You are quite the sight. Yes, they did a wonderful job, a wonderful job." He kissed her hand again. "Please, tell me you'll save me a dance? It would be a delight to dance with one so lovely."

Her face went from pink to deep crimson. "Of course I would," she stuttered, trying to sound noble and courteous.

"Oh, wonderful. It shall be an honor I look forward to throughout the night. My name is Andrew. Might I know yours, fair lady?"

"Serena," she managed, still flustered.

"Ah, Lady Serena. The name fits, for it is as beautiful and unique as you."

Serena wondered if she could smile any larger.

Andrew turned to Seiya, having to tilt his head back to look up at him. "Well look at you! I didn't even know you owned such fine clothes! You look dashing, Seiya, truly a sight. You will certainly steal the attention of every girl away from those of us who are not so lucky."

Seiya harrumphed and looked away. Andrew chuckled at him and turned back to Serena. "I hope he didn't bore you on the way down. He doesn't say a whole lot around strangers. Well . . . really he doesn't say a whole lot around anyone."

Serena grinned. "It was a pleasant enough walk."

All things considered, Andrew appeared to be the polar opposite of Seiya. He was short and slender and had whitish blonde hair falling just below his rounded jaw. His eyes were an emerald green. Serena thought he must be permanently cheerful with the way his smile seemed plastered to his pink lips. For the occasion he had worn a dressy white tunic tied with a large silver belt and pale blue slacks. Andrew was day and Seiya, in all black, was night. Andrew, Serena noted, was cute, adorable, and charming in an almost childish way. Seiya was smolderingly handsome in a way that made a girl wonder if she should fawn over him—or run away.

"Well then," Andrew continued, his gaze still on Serena, "I must see to some of the other guests, and the girl. I trust that Seiya will instruct you on your responsibilities, if he has not already, dear Chosen One from a faraway land."

Serena stared in wonderment as Andrew kissed her hand again. "Wait. Chosen One? You're the second person who has called me that. What does it mean? And what responsibilities?"

Andrew's smile faltered momentarily, before he lifted his chin up with a proud grin. "Ah, so Hota didn't explain it after all. Well, no worries, fair lady. I'm sure you'll do just fine. I think this is going to be an easy one, after all." After a bow, he turned on his heels and began walking away. Just before he disappeared into the crowd, Serena saw him reach up and brush his hair back from his face, revealing a tall, pointed, elfin ear.


	4. Midnight

_Dear readers, I know you're all impatient for Darien to show up and I completely understand, but be patient with me! He'll show up soon, I promise! In the meantime, enjoy the ride. _

Many thanks for Phantasy Star for editing!

Exciting news: I'm posting this from Boston! Where tomorrow I will be attending the International Book Conference. Eep, I'm so thrilled!

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 4: Midnight  
_They thought she must be a foreign princess, for she looked so beautiful  
in the golden dress. The prince approached her, took her by the hand,  
and danced with her, and he would dance with no one else. _  
from Cinderella

"An elf?" Serena murmured to herself, her gloved fingers clasping together in front of her stomach as she watched Andrew go. "How delightful! I met an elf! A real life elf!"

Seiya peered at her, expressionless and bored, then clasped onto her upper arm and dragged her toward the outdoor exit. She quickly lost her excitement upon remembering the strange things Andrew had said before he'd left.

"Seiya, why do people refer to me as the Chosen One? What is it you all think I'm here to do?"

He waited until he had guided her to the bottom of the grand staircase, before turning her to face him. "You will understand soon enough. Are you tired?"

"Tired? No, not at all. Perhaps I should be, so much has happened today, but every new event only makes me more excited!"

He nodded approvingly. "Good. Meet me at the top of these stairs ten minutes before midnight. Do not be late!" His voice rang with finality, startling Serena.

"Why?" she asked timidly.

"Because that is when we will need you." He took a long breath, gazing out the huge doorway. "I need air," he whispered to himself, before sweeping past Serena and up the stairs, disappearing out the door. She watched him go, frowning to herself, before letting out a long breath.

"What an irritating man," she said, letting her gaze sweep out over the crowd. She wished that Andrew hadn't left her so soon; he was the first person she felt she could really talk to, and good company was proving hard to find in this strange land.

From where she stood, she could see Prince Malachite and his wife, Mina, dancing in a corner on the dance floor. They seemed lost in their own world with each other, and Serena smiled upon seeing them so much in love, and wondered briefly how different things would be if she hadn't shown up earlier that day. Rumpelstiltskin would have taken little Princess Cytherea away from her mother and father. But that wasn't how the story went, she knew. A messenger was supposed to tell the princess Rumpelstiltskin's name—not some girl who had never been in their kingdom before.

Serena, as much as she often wished otherwise, wasn't part of the story. But today she had been.

The orchestra finished their song and became silent, drawing the dancing to a standstill as the guests raised their eyes to the platform where King Artemis and Queen Luna sat.

King Artemis stood and raised his arms for attention. His wife was still seated properly on her throne and the two younger princes stood behind the king, Nephlite to his right and Jadeite to his left.

"Ladies and gentlemen of Aysel Kingdom, I welcome you all to this grand celebration, for we do have much to celebrate!" The crowd applauded, urging the king to continue. "I will not waste your time with long and idle speeches, but as the host of this event I feel it is my duty to bring to your attention two announcements concerning the people within this land!

"I'm sure you have all heard of the tragedy that had recently come upon my eldest son and his wife, Prince Malachite and Princess Mina. After the birth of my first grandchild, Princess Cytherea, an evil and cruel man used a past agreement with my daughter-in-law in attempts to steal away the infant child. Using an unfair game, this man would only leave our kingdom without the young child if Princess Mina could, within three days' time, guess his true name. Today was the third day and by this afternoon Princess Mina had not yet determined this vindictive man's name. But when all looked hopeless, ladies and gentlemen, a savior arrived in our kingdom!" The crowd, having been more or less silent with anticipation, drew a collective breath, patiently waiting for the outcome, though most had already heard gossip of the story.

Serena, for her part, felt her stomach sinking. Certainly the king wouldn't draw attention to her, would he? She was terrified at the thought of being the center of attention amongst so many people.

"It is with warm regards and honor that I hereby introduce to you this evening's guest of honor; a young lady whom we are all indebted to for saving the life of Princess Cytherea, a brave and fair maiden, Lady Serena!"

As the crowd burst into applause, Serena flinched. Though she knew she should feel honored, she only felt nervous and scared. A part of her felt fake, even, as if she were an imposter in the kingdom.

She forced herself forward, having to cross the long length of the ballroom as the king patiently waited for her to join him on the stage. The crowd parted as she came by, creating an aisle of raucously cheering guests who watched her with curious and admiring gazes. Her head hung low, fearing the entire ballroom could see the redness in her cheeks.

It seemed the longest walk she had ever taken before Serena finally arrived at the stage and stood before the king. He kissed both of her cheeks, forcing her to raise her head, before turning her to face the crowd. The applause grew even louder. With shaky hands refusing to let go of her skirt, Serena wondered if it would be appropriate for her to bow, or perhaps to curtsy, or maybe she was supposed to make a speech—though she thought she would die if that turned out to be the case.

However, the king saved her the embarrassment as he stepped up to her side and raised his hands to quiet the crowd again. Serena could see smiles on all their faces, and tears in many of their eyes.

The king went on, "My second announcement is one that many of the lovely young ladies in Aysel Kingdom have been waiting for and dreaming of for months. My second born son, Prince Nephlite of Aysel, is now of age to seek out a bride and marry!"

As an excited gasp and breathless chattering rose up from the girls in the crowd, Serena glanced over to Nephlite, who had stepped forward to the other side of his father. He was smiling pleasantly at the crowd with his blue eyes and thin lips, his hands clasped confidently behind his back. However, as she stared at him, Serena saw him silently inhale a long, calming breath as his eyes swept over the sea of guests. He seemed disappointed by it all.

Serena wondered how much of this engagement ceremony had been his idea.

"Please, eligible maidens of Aysel, do not be shy. Perhaps you will be the chosen bride to my handsome son! Now then, if the orchestra will commence with the music, the dancing will be—" King Artemis paused. Turning to him, Serena saw that his eyes were caught on something across the room. Looking past him to Nephlite, she saw that he, too, was awestruck. His eyes no longer appeared disappointed.

Serena turned to see what had piqued their attention, as did the rest of the quietly murmuring crowd. As quickly as they had started, the curious conversations stopped.

A girl had just entered the ballroom from the far entrance, standing now at the top of the stairs, surrounded by gold draperies, armor-clad soldiers, and a dusk sky. Her hair, twisted like a crown atop her head, shone like molasses in the bright candlelight, with tints of pink radiating from the sky as the sun set to the west. Serena could see little of her face from this distance, but could tell her skin was sun-kissed and her eyes were large and lively. Dressed in a golden gown, the girl shimmered like a star against the twilight sky.

When at first Serena had taken notice of the girl, she had seemed calm and more overcome with curiosity than anything. However, noticing that all the room had turned to see her entrance, the girl locked her hands nervously in front of her and took a daunted step backward.

Immediately, Nephlite left the platform, pushing though the crowd. They moved to create an aisle for him, much as they had for Serena. The girl saw Nephlite headed for her and stood still, watching him as he climbed the staircase, their eyes locked onto each other's. She seemed even more nervous as he took a gloved hand into his and kissed the back of it. Serena could see him muttering some words to her, but doubted anyone else in the room could hear what he said. Even from this distance she thought she saw the girl blush as Nephlite led her down to the dance floor.

"The dancing will begin!" King Artemis finally finished his statement and the orchestra started up into a new song, leaving the prince and the girl to dance alone on the ballroom floor, before other couples moved to join them in the quick waltz. Many of the girls in the room looked utterly dejected.

Serena felt a smile stretch over her face, wondering if she had just witnessed love at first sight. She was happy for Nephlite, and hoped the girl was as beautiful on the inside as she was on the out.

"Hota did a marvelous job, didn't she?"

Turning to the familiar voice, Serena saw Andrew beside her, smiling at the couple at the far end of the room.

"Hota?"

"Yes, Hota. You met her didn't you? I'm sure she had planned on seeing you."

"Oh, the fairy! Yes, I met her."

Andrew smiled at her with his pale green eyes and crooked smile, before holding out his hand. "Might I have that dance now, fair lady?"

Serena beamed down on him, feeling silly for being dragged off the platform and into the arms of a man shorter than she, and yet she couldn't complain. He was indeed a gentleman and within minutes she noticed he was also an excellent dancer. Of course, the same could hardly be said for her, but that went unmentioned as the music melted away the night.

* * *

A long while later, Serena found herself smiling up at Prince Jadeite as another song came to an end. Curtsying, she thanked him for the dance, before slipping away for a sip of punch. The night had floated through dances with Andrew, Prince Malachite, and Prince Jadeite, and even one with the king, among countless other strangers who had coerced her onto the dance floor.

Between songs she had spent time chatting with Princess Mina and Queen Luna and tasting the hundreds of treats offered by servants on large silver trays, or set upon the banquet tables along with meats, crackers, truffles, cheeses, and berries. Serena had grown fond of the dark chocolate and coconut truffles, the blackberry cheesecake squares, and the assorted mix of skewered wild berries dipped in white chocolate. However, she was much fonder of dancing and often found herself on the dance floor after only a brief respite spent sampling the tempting desserts.

She downed the warm spiced punch and set the glass on a servant's empty tray as he walked by. Her eyes scanned over the room to see Andrew charming a young maiden out of her seat, and Prince Malachite once again swaying to a slow piece with his wife. She noticed that even the king and queen had made their way off of their thrones to join in the festivities.

It occurred to Serena that she hadn't seen Prince Nephlite or his mysterious dancing partner in some time and she wondered vaguely where they had gone off to, but dismissed the train of thought as a handsome man offered his hand to her. She knew that her feet would swell in the morning, but she didn't mind as she smiled brightly and allowed the gentleman to lead her onto the floor.

The aroma of sweet cologne hung on the air as Serena let the man guide her in circles around the other dancers. She could still taste the cinnamon from the punch on her tongue. Licking her lips, she knew that the lip color the maids had put on her was long gone. The music held her as close as her dancing partner did, the rhythm and tempo pulsing against her veins until her heart beat in time with the melody. She closed her eyes and pretended, as she often had that night, that her dancing partner wasn't some stranger from a foreign land, but rather her impossible crush from little Crossroads, Darien Shields. The dances could only become more enjoyable when she pictured herself in his arms and thought that the cologne she smelled and the hands against her back belonged to him.

The song changed and the man bowed to her, stepping aside as another stranger greeted her and asked for her hand. Serena offered it without thinking and was dragged into the quicker beat. The silky under-layers of her dress were clinging to her thighs, reminding her of the painful throbbing in her legs and ankles, and so she let the man do more work, and simply followed along without trying to imitate all of the fancy steps she had never learned. Her new dancing partner didn't seem to mind as his hand pressed gently against her back.

She spun beneath his arm and was drawn back against his shoulder, one of the few moves she had grasped. Her lips turned up wistfully, her eyes following the flowing dresses of all the ladies and the proud smiles of all the gentlemen in the room. They eventually made their way to the large grandfather clock by the king and queen's platform. Larger than any normal clock she had ever seen, it stood to about half the height of the ceiling and appeared to be an exact, albeit smaller, replica of the clock tower she had seen upon first entering the kingdom of Aysel.

She stared at the mirrored face, mesmerized by the gold and silver hands while she swayed dazedly in the music.

Then, recognition made its way through the haze in her thoughts and she stiffened her back, her feet stopping in the middle of the dance step. She gasped and stumbled and her partner barely caught her before glancing down on her face with concern.

"Mi'lady, are you—"

"I'm sorry, thank you for the dance, I have to go!" she blurted in a rush, before deserting his arms, grabbing up her skirts, and running toward the large open doorway. The pain in her legs was forgotten as she reached the top of the steps and looked out onto the moonlit garden and long driveway that led through the gates of the castle and out into the town, a different entrance than the one she had entered through earlier that afternoon.

Breathing heavily, she collected her thoughts as she glided down the outside steps, looking around for the escort she had not seen in hours. Seiya was not among the small collection of armored soldiers guarding the entrance and giddy couples chatting and kissing beneath the stars. Serena began to chew on her lip, a nervous habit she'd had since childhood, her hands clenching the layers of her skirt in a tight grip.

"You're late."

Spinning toward the smoky voice, Serena let out a long breath that she hadn't realized she was holding, before smiling innocently up at the man. "I was having so much fun I didn't realize how late it was! I certainly didn't mean to leave you waiting. But then, it isn't completely my fault, since you didn't even tell me why we were meeting here. Is it really that important?"

Seiya stood against a white marble pillar, his black tunic silhouetted against the stone behind him. "Very important."

Seeing that he didn't plan on offering any further explanation, Serena frowned and folded her arms over her chest. "Well? Are you going to explain what's so important? Maybe tell me what it is you want me to do, or why you and Andrew and that strange fairy girl think I'm some sort of 'Chosen One'?" Her voice was rising, agitation building as his charcoal eyes only stared down on her, not seeming to care about a single word she said. He seemed as uninterested in her as he would be in a fly on his shoulder. Serena briefly imagined him reaching out and swatting her away.

He did not swat at her, however, but turned toward the ballroom at the sound of a great chime echoing through the palace. One strike, two strikes, three strikes, the clock continued to count off the seconds to midnight. Serena stood, momentarily shocked by the flicker in his eyes, the first time she had seen a hint of something more in the depths of boredom. Was it concern? Or maybe even compassions? Stunned, perhaps even a bit worried now herself, she followed his gaze, seeing the red light from the chandeliers within spread flickering veins over the marble stairs.

Above the music, Serena thought she heard the yelling of a man, calling to something, someone. Then a girl appeared in the doorway. Serena recognized her from before, the beautiful brunette who had entered the ball with such a captivating presence. Her gold skirt was gathered into both of her hands as she scurried breathlessly down the steps, her long hair, having fallen out of its braid, bounced off of her shoulders as she descended toward Serena and Seiya. She was ignorant of the few onlookers who had turned to watch her leave.

Prince Nephlite emerged from the curtained doorway not far behind the girl. "Please, stop!" he yelled, following her, though the distance grew between them with every step he took.

Serena hardly noticed when Seiya grabbed her arm and pulled her farther to the side of the staircase, letting the mysterious girl flee through the dispersed crowd. As she passed, Serena noticed that her beautiful face was stricken with worry.

The clock struck four. Five. Six. Seven times.

"Please, wait! I don't even know your name!" Nephlite desperately continued. The girl paid him no heed, her escape only pausing momentarily when she stumbled on the steps and one of her shoes tumbled away from her foot. For a moment it looked as if she would turn to claim the slipper, but instead she grabbed the other shoe off of her foot and ran faster than she had before with the slipper clutched in her hand.

Eight. Nine.

Her gold dress could be seen half way out the garden by the time Nephlite had reached the bottom of the steps. He ran right past the shoe, ignoring the knights and the couples and Seiya and Serena as they watched the scene with wonderment. A lavishly decorated carriage awaited the girl just beyond the gate to the castle and she jumped into it without looking back and was sped instantly into the empty streets of the city.

Ten. Eleven.

By the dropping of the prince's shoulders once he finally reached the castle walls, Serena knew that the carriage was out of view and Nephlite wouldn't have a clue as to which way the girl had gone.

Twelve.

Nephlite stood alone in the garden as the last chime hung in the cool evening air, then slowly turned back toward the castle and tediously, dejectedly began to make his way up the wide pathway. The music inside was upbeat and oblivious to the escape of the prince's beautiful stranger.

When he was close enough for Serena to see the candlelight on his face, she felt her heart clamp painfully inside. Nephlite's handsome face was full of distress. His slow steps guided him past the glittering shoe on the stairs as he moved with lowered shoulders, dragging feet, and drooping head.

"How very tragic," Seiya murmured behind her. His voice sounded engrossed and pained. Serena realized that his hand was still gently rested against her arm, part on her glove and most on her skin. She shuddered—in surprise or fear she didn't know.

"Prince Nephlite, wait!" she called, pulling her arm away from Seiya as the prince brushed past her.

He stalled on the stairs, his head slightly listing toward her.

"Look! She left this! You can still find her!"

Serena strode forward and snatched up the girl's slipper, turning toward Nephlite with it proudly displayed in her hand. His deep blue eyes looked at the shoe for a long moment, undisturbed within their ocean depths. Serena's heart ached for him, her gloved fingers twitching around the slipper. It was unsurprisingly made of glass, and so small that it barely stretched the full length of her hand. She wondered if such small feet were possible, especially as the girl had seemed taller than Serena's petite 4'11" form by at least a head. Of course, Serena knew that logically the girl must have extraordinarily small feet, so that her slipper would fit no other girl in the kingdom.

Nephlite didn't know that—yet.

"You see how small it is? How many girls could possibly fit into such small slippers? There can only be one in your entire kingdom. You can find her, Prince Nephlite. We'll find her. I'll help you."

His dejected eyes were still glued to the slipper. Serena could see the muscles flexing in his jaw and a strained gulp, but then a hint of hope flashed in his eyes. His gaze darted to hers, then back to the slipper, and he slowly smiled. To Serena, the curling of his lips was like the sun climbing over the horizon after a stormy night. The prince reached both his hands forward, his fingertips shaking as he gently took the shoe into his grip, cradling it as if it would break. And, indeed, it might have.

"Yes, we'll find her. You and I, Lady Serena. And then . . . then I'll marry her."

Serena beamed up at him. "We'll set out tomorrow!"

His eyes were still locked on the slipper, but he nodded in her direction, the grin growing on his face. "Yes, I'll have the servants wake you at dawn. Thank you, Lady Serena, for everything."

She didn't know how to respond nor was she given time as Prince Nephlite turned and walked up the stairs, still holding the shoe before him. She thought it a miracle he didn't trip on the steps, really that he didn't falter at all as he disappeared into the glowing room where the music played.

When he was gone, Serena let out a loud groan. "Now I have to get up at _dawn!_" she wailed, crossing her arms and pouting. If Seiya had a reaction to her antics, he didn't voice it.

"You've done a wonderful job, Lady Serena," Andrew said, suddenly appearing from behind a pillar on the other side of the steps. Serena turned to see him with a broad smile upon his lips and a small fairy on his shoulder. She recognized Hota, dressed all in amethyst purple.

"Yes, that was pretty good for an amateur," the fairy agreed with a wink, her dragonfly wings fluttering slightly against Andrew's cropped hair and proudly displayed pointed ears.

"Now all we have to do is find the girl and get Prince Nephlite to ask for her hand in marriage. It will be so simple! And the second he sees her, he will undoubtedly fall madly in love, just as he did tonight. It will be a splendid romance, and the wedding will be glorious!" Andrew's smile grew with every word.

Hota glanced at the elf from the corner of her eye. "Now, don't get overzealous! Drama is key in a good story, you know that! I have a feeling this tale has not yet met its climax. The prince and his mysterious cinder girl have a ways to go yet. Remember, he doesn't know her social class. He believes that she's a noble. And there is the cruel stepmother still to deal with."

Andrew waved his hand as if to brush away the skepticism. "Nonsense, love will prevail. Besides, we have Lady Serena on our side. I'm sure she can help us to overcome any obstacle."

"Wait. A. Minute." Serena could feel her scowl making permanent wrinkles in her forehead as she held a palm up toward the elf and fairy. "Just how do you know she is called cinder girl? And what makes you think she has a cruel stepmother?" she growled.

Andrew and Hota glanced from each other to the fuming girl before them in surprise. Hota placed her hands on her hips and lifted her wings to hover a few inches over Andrew's shoulder.

"First of all, I'm that girl's fairy godmother, I ought to know what her bratty sisters call her! And secondly, we're the guardians! It's our _job_ to know everything about these people!"

Serena gawked at the tiny girl. A thousand questions ran through her head, but they only came out in sputters.

"You—you're her _fairy godmother?_"

Hota seemed puzzled at the outburst. "And just why is that so surprising?"

"Because you're . . . I mean, you look so . . . young."

Hota looked down at herself, her black hair falling in locks over her face as she smoothed down the shiny material around her waist. "Yeah, so?"

Serena shook her head. "Never mind, I guess it isn't important. But you know where Cinderella lives then? Where we can find her?"

The fairy beamed proudly. "Of course I do."

"Great! That will save us so much time!"

"But I won't tell you."

Serena felt her shoulders sag. "Why not?"

Giggling, the tiny girl brushed her hair back with one hand. "Because that would take all of the adventure out of the plot! How much fun would it be if the prince found the girl right away? It holds no anticipation, no anxiety, no fear! No build up of emotion before the final climactic scene!" Her head was high, her hands balled into fists before her breast. Her voice carried a tone of utmost importance.

Serena didn't have a clue what she was talking about. Throwing her hands into the air, she let out an enraged scream. "You act like this is just some child's story book! I realize we may be living in a fairy-tale world right now, but it's still these people's lives we're talking about, not just some made up characters you can treat like puppets in your crazy story!" Drawing in ragged breaths, she looked from Hota to Andrew to Seiya and back to the girl. They were all staring at her with benign, almost sorrowful, expressions.

"You're wrong," Andrew finally spoke up, his pale green eyes watching Serena hesitantly.

"What do you mean, I'm 'wrong'?"

"They are only characters in a book. They were created by people in another world, for people in another world. They are like puppets, going about in the imaginary world of another, waiting for someone from that world to tell them where to go, what to do, who to love. Unknowingly, they wait for the Chosen One to come and sort out the tangled web of their lives, to give them purpose; to give them drama, romance, and even tragedy. Unknowingly, they wait for you, Lady Serena. We have all waited for you."

Serena gawked at the elf for a long moment before shifting her stare to Hota. The fairy nodded and she turned to Seiya. He made no move, but his expression told her that Andrew had spoken the truth.

"Everyone in this world is a character made for a story?"

Andrew and Hota nodded.

"Even you?"

They glanced to each other while Seiya cleared his throat with a tinge of awkwardness.

"In a way..." Andrew drawled quietly. "But we're different from the other characters. We and the Storyteller are the only exceptions."

"The Storyteller?"

"The Lord Grimm," Hota responded for Andrew. "He lives south of here in a small cottage. There used to be more, but they are no longer with us. It is now up to us guardians to keep things in order, but . . . it just isn't the same. The people here are lost without the guidance of the Storytellers, and only Grimm knows how much longer even he will be with us. That's why we need you."

"Why are you called guardians?"

"We guard the stories, make sure that things go according to the wishes of the Storytellers. That none of the important aspects of a story are missing in these people's lives. To make sure that the plots and adventures aren't altered," said Hota.

"Specifically," Andrew added, "Hota keeps watch over the drama in a story, Seiya protects the tragic elements, and I take care of the romance."

"Except lately things have been getting out of our control," the fairy went on as if there had been no interruption. "Like this morning, for example, a messenger should have come and told Princess Mina that he'd heard Rumpelstiltskin singing his own name, and yet, no messenger came. Such occurrences have been going on for years now. The magic beans no longer sprout over night, frogs no longer turn into handsome men, pigs no longer build houses of straw . . . and we can't keep up with all the mishaps. Not by ourselves.

"So we sent a wise and trusted friend in search of someone who could help us. Someone from the other world, who was familiar enough with our world and our stories."

"Don't tell me..." Serena muttered, glancing between the guardians. "Puss in Boots?"

They nodded.

"Oh my... and I thought it was just a cute little kitten."

"That's one of the reasons Sir Boots was such an optimal choice. People from your world hardly expect him to be... well, interviewing them. Plus, he has an uncanny knack for attracting people who are familiar with our plights. He's been working for some time, now, to bring you to us. So do you see, Lady Serena? We need you. We need your help in setting things straight."

Serena didn't see much of anything and felt her knees go weak. Reaching her palm out to a nearby pillar, she slowly sunk against the support, falling down to her rump on the marble steps. It was only a moment before she felt a warm body next to her and Andrew's arm over her shoulders.

"Please don't worry. We'll be here. From this night forward we are not only the guardians of the stories, but we are also the guardians of the Chosen One. We will protect you, Lady Serena, so long as you help us accomplish what we must."

_Please review._ Thanks for reading!


	5. The Glass Slipper

Raise your hand if you're participating in **NaNoWriMo!** I am, and am currently at 8,973 words! It is a fanfic, and you will see it eventually. Wish me luck on reaching the big 50,000!

That said, I'm sorry for this chapter's lateness. And I don't guarantee any more posts in the month of November, but I will try.

Holding your breath for Darien? _Soon._ Not this chapter (but please read it anyway!) but soon.

Thanks as always to Phantasy Star for editing, and everyone who takes time to review. Always appreciated!

And good luck to other nano-ers!

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade

**Chapter 5: The Glass Slipper**  
_The next morning, the prince took it to the king  
and said to him, "No one shall be my wife except for  
the one whose foot fits this golden shoe."_  
from Cinderella

She did not bother to stay silent as she walked through the front door. The house was empty and though her mother and sisters would soon be coming home, it would take her only a moment to hide all of the evidence of her rebellious, delightful, excruciating night.

All of the evidence.

She carried the shoe like a crystal chandelier: immensely valuable and terribly fragile. Her tattered apron still hung on the wall by the fireplace, caked in soot and flour and dirt. Pulling it off of its peg, she wrapped it around the shoe before sinking gracefully to the floor. She cradled the bundle lovingly in one arm and stoked the ashes of the fire with the other. Hardly a moment passed before a few last embers burst into little flames. Putting a piece of kindling on them, holding it long enough for it to catch fire, she finally curled herself like a fetus on the ground, cuddling the apron, and her only treasure, before her.

She was still awake when the front door opened and three loud, inconsiderate women stomped into the house. She pretended to be asleep.

"The nerve of that girl!" she heard her mother, her stepmother, growl. "Taking all of the prince's attention and then fleeing without any introductions, any formal greetings. No one knows who she is, how to find her . . . Aysel's mystery girl, and there go the chances of all the truly poor wenches in this kingdom." There was the heavy clomping of wood-soled shoes prancing up the stairs. "And where is that lazy cinder girl? This house is freezing!"

"Should I wake her?" her eldest stepsister, Faith, asked through a yawn.

"Goodness, no, I couldn't stand to see that brat's face tonight. Remind me to have her cut extra wood tomorrow. This chill will not be repeated another night."

"Yes, Mother."

Their voices disappeared into mutterings and the slamming of doors. For a few minutes, the girl in the ashes listened to footsteps and heavy dresses being dropped on the floor above her head, before the house once again fell silent.

For reasons she didn't quite understand, the cinder girl buried her face into the folds of her apron, feeling the toughness of the shoe beneath it, and wept. Between her tears she could see his face, and beneath the rough muslin fabric she could feel the tender skin of his palm, and amidst the crackling of the fire she could hear his voice calling to her again and again.

_I don't even know your name._

* * *

Serena was awoken at dawn by a handful of hyperactive maidens. As they primped and prodded and cleansed and dressed her, she sat quietly and sleepily and thought about Nephlite, and about the three guardians, and about the glass slipper. She also couldn't help but think about Darien Shields, and wonder what he would think to see little underclassman Serena being waited on by servants in a massive castle, dancing with princes and wearing silk and satin gowns.

Her mind was still drowsy when Prince Nephlite knocked at the door. He was much livelier than he had been when she had last seen him, and wouldn't stop talking from the moment he stepped into her suite. It appeared that he hadn't slept the night before, for he now had a completed diagram of the town, Aysel, and its occupants. Each house was numbered and color-coordinated to match with the homes that had daughters of different statuses who had attended the ball. Drawn very carefully in auburn-colored ink, with a straight edge and detailed with accompanying arrows, appeared a path overlying the town that they would follow to ensure they reached every house by nightfall. Nephlite proposed that they begin in the richest neighborhoods, right outside the castle walls, since his love had been so beautiful "she only could have come from noble standing."

Serena smiled sleepily and nodded at everything he said, wondering if she would get free donuts and coffee for her services.

The fawning maidens hadn't yet finished with their morning ritual before Serena was ushered out of the room by the anxious prince, leaving her to throw her hair up into a its usual style, two twin buns and ponytails, as they paced down the hallway and into the palace labyrinth. This time Serena didn't attempt to remember the strange hallways as they passed by the libraries and art rooms, but instead focused on holding the large skirt that the maids had forced upon her from out beneath her feet, and tried desperately not to lose balance on the little heels of her shoes. Her soles were terribly sore from the previous evening and she still wasn't used to the delicate footwear. She couldn't help but wonder what had become of her tennis shoes.

Eventually, they reached a long cobblestone path at the palace's eastern entrance, where the sun could be seen just starting up over the horizon.

She was delighted as the coachman handed her a pastry with banana cream filling and brown sugar topping, and though she missed her morning coffee, she could not complain for lack of donuts. Soon, the horses began galloping off with the prince still climbing into the opposite bench. Rubbing her eyes, Serena desperately tried to wake up as the bouncing carriage rambled outside of the palace walls.

The town looked exactly the same on this side of the palace as it had on the other, complete with the red and white stonewalls and multi-colored roofs. Serena shook her head. There must have been thousands of families in this town. Searching for the girl was like searching for a needle in a haystack.

Serena's thoughts didn't have long to wander. The prince stopped at the end of the street, just before in front of the castle walls. He still had a goofy grin on his face.

"Here it is: the first house! It could be hers, you know."

But Serena knew it wasn't. Hota would have seen to that. As Nephlite helped her out of the carriage, she had a long sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. This was going to be a long day, and all she wanted to do was crawl back into bed.

They approached the first home—all red and white with a dusty blue roof. All the windows were flanked by decorative shutters and had ornamental flower boxes filled with lilies and chrysanthemums. It was an adorable house, even if it did look exactly like every other house in the town.

Nephlite went first, practically skipping up to the door. The coachman followed with the glass slipper gingerly set upon a luscious purple velvet pillow with golden tassels. It sparkled brilliantly in the early morning sun.

Nephlite did not wait for Serena and the coachman to join him on the front steps. He knocked exuberantly on the pretty blue door. It was a long silent moment before they heard steps within and a middle-aged man opened the door dressed in his nightgown.

"Whadya want?" he asked grumpily. "It's 6:30 in the bloody mornin'!"

"Pardon me, kind sir. I am Prince Nephlite of this kingdom and I would like to have a word with your daughters."

The man's irritation dropped away as he recognized the prince. "Oh, Your Majesty! Of course, of course, please, forgive my rudeness. Come right in!"

As they stepped inside, the man ran up into his house. They heard him banging on doors and whispering excitedly (if not quietly). Soon, nervous squeals were heard upstairs and a few moments later, the man's wife came scuttling down the staircase, dressed in a lush chenille robe, her hair tied with curling rags.

"Come in!" she called cheerfully, waving them into the parlor. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll have Ginny put on some coffee."

Serena brightened up.

"That won't be necessary," Nephlite said. Serena could have slapped him. "If we could just see your daughters, please. We may have much to do today."

The woman's face fell momentarily, but it quickly brightened again. "Certainly! They dawdle from time to time, you know how girls can be. I'll go see what's taking them so long."

As she darted upstairs again, Serena fell into a nearby loveseat. "Coffee would have been nice," she stated accusingly, but Nephlite didn't seem to hear her.

"To think that she could be right upstairs, in this very house," he said dazedly.

A second later, the man and woman reappeared with four disgruntled girls trotting behind them. The first was desperately trying to take curlers out of her hair, the second was struggling with her stockings, the third was spritzing herself with scented water, and the fourth was quickly lacing up her dress bodice. They looked to be between the ages of thirteen and twenty, and they were all red-headed with freckles. _Pretty cute girls,_ Serena mused, _but Nephlite's girl was brunette._

If Nephlite noticed this, he said nothing as the coachman launched into a speech he had obviously rehearsed.

"Ladies of Aysel, at yester evening's engagement masquerade, a young woman met and danced with His Majesty, Prince Nephlite. However, she left the ceremony abruptly at midnight without giving her name. All that she left was this glass slipper. Hence, the girl that fits and belongs to this slipper, the prince has vowed to make his bride. If any of you believe this shoe to be yours, please step forward."

The girls eyed each other in drowsy confusion before their mother _ahemed_ and the eldest moved toward the coachman.

"Er . . . I think it could be mine," she said uncertainly and her expression told clearly that she knew it was not.

But the coachman ushered her into a nearby chair anyhow and she removed her knit stockings. Nephlite leaned forward expectantly and Serena rolled her eyes, feeling like she could drop off into sleep at any moment. The coachman slipped the shoe over her toes . . . and stopped. It would go no farther. The fit wasn't even close.

He took the shoe off as the mother groaned disappointedly. The eldest stood with an ashamed look on her face and the second eldest took her place. One by one, the girls tried on the shoe, but none of them fit. The youngest came close, but could not quite squeeze her heel into the slipper.

"Her feet are swollen from all of the dancing!" the mother cried desperately as Nephlite bowed and thanked them for their time. Serena was pulled from her seat and ushered toward the door, yawning and crankily batting the prince's hand off her arm.

"Thank you again," he called back as they scurried out to the street. Serena looked at him, expecting his features to be disappointed, but rather, they seemed just as chipper as ever.

"This next one," he crooned, jaunting across the street, "it could be it! She could be here!"

* * *

The sun was setting beneath the mountains to the west and Prince Nephlite sat sullenly pouting across from Serena in the carriage. All day they had traveled and searched. They had seen girl after girl try on the glass slipper, seen mother after mother with hopeful glimmers in their eyes, tear after tear as the prince walked away from their homes. Serena watched with little sleep and no additional food in her stomach as the prince's shoulders sunk. She tried to become more chirpy and optimistic with every disappointment, but time and again, Nephlite's hopes were shattered, driven from ever seeing his lovely stranger again. Now the stars were coming out in the sky and only one home remained. If the mysterious girl was not found in this residence, Prince Nephlite had little hope of ever seeing her again.

The carriage stopped outside the gate and Serena jumped from the small doorway without help from the prince or the coachman (whose eyes were also looking rather droopy).

"This is it, the last house!" she proclaimed, clasping her hands before her chest. "She must be in here. Can you believe it, Nephlite? You're so very close. She must be right in there!" Her lightest voice and largest smile had little effect on the prince. His dark eyes looked on at the house with heavy skepticism. Serena knew what he was thinking. This was his last chance. If the girl wasn't in there, there was little chance that she would ever be found. Serena herself, though, was ecstatic.

Serena stood in the gravel road, staring up at a two-story brick house, a cool dusk breeze tousling her hair. "Finally," she murmured beneath her breath. "If that girl doesn't live here, I'm going to throttle someone, and that fairy godmother is at the top of the list." Nephlite approached from behind her, his footsteps slow and imbalanced on the rocky ground.

"What will I do?"

"Don't worry. She'll be here. I'm sure of it." Inhaling a deep breath, she marched toward the front door, an ornate, red lacquered door that was warm and inviting. The distinct sounds of chickens and cows could be heard from behind the house. The air smelled pleasantly of hay and the lavender that lined the pathway through the front garden. Serena was the first to reach the door. With a quick glance over her shoulder to see that Nephlite and the coachman were still with her, Serena took a deep breath and lifted the knocker.

The heavy iron ring thudded three times against the red door, echoing through the walls and eves of the house. It was immediately followed by chatter and scuffling within, and soon after they had silenced the door opened to reveal a proud, beautiful woman with charcoal eyes and gray-speckled hair.

"Good evening, mi'lady. Please welcome—"

"Your Majesty!" the woman proclaimed, brushing past Serena and dropping to one knee before Nephlite. She grasped his hand in a pale, wrinkled palm and pressed valentine red lips to his knuckles. "I am honored that you have graced our humble home with your presence." Standing, she waved her arm to the doorway. "Please, won't you come in for tea?"

All this in less than ten seconds and the dark cast of the prince's eyes didn't show the slightest hint of fading. He nodded to her request and stepped inside, followed by the coachman with his pillow and the shiny slipper that had not lost any of its glimmer, despite the hundreds of hands and feet that had touched it that day. Serena hung back, watching the woman eye the slipper hungrily, before entering the "humble home" as well.

They were urged past the foyer and a little staircase into a charming living room. A fire burned in the hearth, tea and five cups had already been poured and set out on a dark wood coffee table, and two fair, if not extraordinary looking, girls sat on a sofa, one darning socks, the other practicing embroidery, and neither of them seeming to do a great job of it.

Upon the entrance of the prince, both girls set their crafts down and stood (in unison). "Good evening, Your Majesty." Their smiles and batting eyelashes were even more saccharin than every other girl Serena had seen that day. She wanted to gag.

Nephlite looked the two girls over with an unimpressed gaze, his shoulders caving in as the thought dawned on him that these must be the last two girls in the kingdom. Even without the slipper, he knew that neither of them were his beautiful princess.

"May I introduce my daughters," the woman announced, strolling into the room, her arms floating around like an over-instructed ballerina, "Faith and Hope."

The girls curtsied, the prince nodded, and the coachman began his speech for the umpteenth time that day. Serena yawned as she listened to him drawl on, the three other ladies in the room practically salivating as the coachman reached the part about marriage to the prince and heir to a portion of the kingdom. They all eyed the glass slipper like a pack of wolves. While the proceedings went on, Serena wondered just where in the house the pretty cinder girl must be hiding, and if she knew that they were there—that her prince was in her house. Serena kept her ears sharp, though her thoughts began to wander when she noticed a plate of cookies beside the tea.

The coachman finished and inhaled a deep breath after his exhaustive dissertation.

"It's mine!" Faith screamed almost immediately, bundling her skirts up in a fist. "It was I who wore it to the ball. I assure you it will fit perfectly." At a gesture from the coachman, she pranced over to a high-backed chair and sat down with all the poise of schoolboy. Neither the coachman nor the prince seemed to have much confidence in her honesty, but the coachman kneeled down beside her anyway, taking the slipper into both hands as she gingerly unrolled her stocking.

It was obvious from the start that the slipper would not fit. In fact, it was sure to not even come close. And indeed, as the coachman moved to slip, or more like force, the shoe onto the girl, she barely managed to get her toes inside.

"Why! I don't understand! It fit yesterday!" Faith screeched, grabbing the shoe and jamming it on as forcefully as she could. "It is my shoe, I'm sure it is!"

"My apologies, mi'lady, but it seems—"

"There's a sore on my toe!" she screamed hysterically. "I shall cut it off and prove that the slipper is mine!" And she fled into the next room, the slipper in her grasp. The coachman and prince made to run after her, but her mother stepped before them with the tray full of cookies.

"Please, gentlemen, I assure you she will be right back. Relax. Eat something if you please."

"This is a very serious matter," Prince Nephlite said angrily. "If something happens to that shoe—"

Serena attempted to dodge around the woman, but not because she was worried about the slipper. As Faith had run from the room, Serena had remembered one of the most gruesome aspects of the story of Cinderella, and what exactly the stepsisters did to fit into the shoe. "We have to stop her!" she squealed as Faith's mother held her back. "You don't know what she's planning to do!"

"I believe she's trying to marry a prince," the woman hissed at her with an icy glare.

Serena stopped screaming and stepped back from the horrid gaze. "But is it worth it?"

At that moment, the door opened and a very pale Faith limped through. Her face was horribly pained and her entire body was shaking. In one hand she held a bloody kitchen knife, and on her foot was the slipper.

"It fits," she said faintly. She looked strangely satisfied as her mother gave her a proud grin.

"Ah! So it is my daughter whom the prince has fallen in love with. We are so honored that you will have my dear Faith for your—"

"Lady, your foot!" the coachman yelled. Everyone in the room looked down at the glass slipper, and as they watched a stream of blood began to overflow and drip down the shoe's sides onto the carpet.

Nephlite clapped his hand to mouth as if he would be sick. Serena shrunk back with disgust. But Faith only smiled weakly.

"It is nothing. I merely scratched myself when removing the sore spot."

"What sore spot?" Serena shrieked, unable to control the outburst. "Do you mean your whole _toe?_"

Faith glared at her in response and Serena found herself suddenly very worried about the large butcher knife in her hand. "Now then," Faith said determinedly, "I am ready to go the castle, my prince."

Nephlite was still looking aghast at the shoe as the blood soaked into the carpet. As Faith began to walk toward him, limping and in obvious pain, he suddenly bellowed out, "That is enough! Remove that shoe at once!"

Faith stepped back as if he had slapped her. "What do you mean?"

"You heard him," the coachman said. "You are obviously in pain. The shoe does not fit. You can't possibly—"

"But it does fit!" she screamed. "Look! It is on!"

"Take it off. Now!"

Her paleness turned to a bright red as Faith looked from the Prince to her mother. She seemed at a complete loss as her warm blood continued to overflow beneath her. Finally, she stooped down and with a painful grunt tore the shoe from her foot.

Serena whimpered and looked away. Even Faith's mother looked suddenly quite sick and Hope thought she might faint. The prince and the coachman were both disgusted by the pitiable girl, for she had cut her big toe to a stump.

The coachman grabbed a stack of cloth napkins from the coffee table and knelt to wrap them around the girl's foot, before taking back the bloody shoe.

"Mi'lady," he said, breaking the awkward silence, "the shoe is not yours."

Faith began to cry hysterically. She dropped the knife and stumbled back into the other room, clutching the blood-soaked cloths in one fist.

The door slammed behind her and the room was filled with intense silence and the smell of blood. The girls' mother spoke first, once again wearing a complacent expression.

"I apologize for my daughter's behavior. I don't know what's come over her. However, my other daughter also attended yester eve's ball."

Hope stepped forward, steadying herself on the back of a chair. "Yes, I was. And indeed, I do remember dancing with you, Your Majesty. I am sure that the shoe is mine."

The prince looked unconvinced, but the coachman had already cleaned out the shoe with a towel. Hope sat down and held out her foot. The coachman went to slip it on, but it only barely fit over the arch of her foot. Her heel would not squeeze in, so he went to pull away, shaking his head apologetically.

"The slipper does not fit."

"But of course it does. You aren't doing it right! What does a man know of a woman's shoe?" Hope asked snottily, grabbing the shoe and ramming her foot into it as roughly as she could.

"That is enough, mi'lady!" Nephlite said sternly, but she did not stop. With an angry cry, Hope grabbed up the knife and raised it above her heel.

"No!" Serena cried, snatching the knife away before Hope could maim herself like her sister had. "Are you crazy? The shoe doesn't fit. It's done!"

"But it does! It can! I will marry the prince!"

Serena held the knife away so that the girl could not get to it, though she screamed and begged. Finally, Hope broke into horrible sobs and ran out of the room in the direction her sister had gone.

Heaving a long sigh, Serena threw the knife down on the table. "You have raised a very sad couple of daughters," she harshly accused the mother.

The woman glared at her coolly, but did not respond. She slowly set the plate of cookies that she had been holding down onto the table and turned to Prince Nephlite. "Your Highness, I am so sorry for my daughters' behavior this evening. They are easily excitable."

Serena rolled her eyes, but Nephlite bowed politely. His face had a peculiar green tint.

"I take it there are no more young ladies in the house?" he asked shakily, stooping to pick up the deserted glass slipper.

The woman shook her head.

"I see. Then I apologize for taking up your time. Have a good evening."

"Wait!" Serena said, stepping forward quickly. "Perhaps there is one more girl."

The woman raised her eyebrow in irritation. "I assure you I have no other daughters."

"Not a daughter," Serena mused, "but a servant."

For a moment the woman looked surprised, but it was easily replaced with contempt. "Whatever do you mean? Why would I let a servant go to the ball?"

"Yes," the prince hissed at Serena, "why would she?"

"It doesn't matter," Serena snapped. "We must try this slipper on every eligible girl in the kingdom, isn't that right, Nephlite?"

His frown deepened at her. "Eligible girls include those of noble status, Lady Serena. Those who could actually have attended the ball."

Serena heaved a frustrated sigh. "Who is to say that she couldn't have? Give any pretty girl a dress and a pair of fancy slippers . . ."

The woman laughed. "And wherever would a servant girl find such nice things? Certainly, you don't believe that the honorable Prince Nephlite would want to marry a measly commoner?"

"Yes, you wouldn't believe that, would you, Serena?" Nephlite growled.

Serena looked at him in astonishment. "What does any of that matter? You fell in love with her heart, not her status, didn't you? Now, is there another girl here or not?"

"Serena, that is quite enough!" Nephlite yelled. "Mi'lady, once again, I am sorry for taking up your time. Good day." He abruptly grabbed Serena by the arm, the slipper still clutched in his other hand, and stormed to the front door.

"Ouch! You're hurting me!" Serena wailed exasperatedly as she was dragged out to the road, the coachman trotting behind them with his empty pillow. The door slammed behind them and the prince finally let go.

"How dare you!" he hissed, turning to face her.

"How dare I what?"

"How dare you insult me, a prince of Aysel Kingdom, in the home of a noble?"

"Insult you? What, by asking to see the love of your life?"

"By asking for a servant girl! Who do you think I am? Do you honestly believe that I would sink to the level of marrying a peasant? It's inconceivable!"

"Oh, get over yourself!" Serena threw her arms in the air. "She's a person, just like you. And _just_ because she doesn't have some high-class status does not make her any less worthy of your affection, or to be a princess. What if she is the most beautiful, sweet, wonderful girl that will ever come into your life? And you're going to let her walk away because of some stupid title? _That_ is the insult!"

"No! The fact that I let you, another commoner, drag me around on this wild goose hunt is the insult!" Nephlite screamed, throwing the glass slipper to the road. With a _crash,_ it shattered into hundreds of tiny sparkling shards.

Serena yipped, jumping away from the shattered glass.

"You may have performed some great feat with that dwarf man yesterday, but I see now that you are nothing more than a nuisance! You are but an ungrateful, impolite, rude, childish . . . _girl!_ Rescued niece or not, you are no longer welcome in my palace." Throwing back the curtain of the carriage, Nephlite stomped into it. "Coachman!"

"Er . . . yes, Your Majesty," replied the driver, nodding apologetically to Serena and jumping up into the seat. He grabbed the reigns and drove off down the cobblestone road, leaving Serena to gape after them.

"Why," she finally breathed, her jaw hanging open, "that conceited, arrogant little . . ."

". . . very important prince."

Serena spun around to see Seiya, his arms crossed, staring at her. Andrew stood at Seiya's side, Hota perched on his shoulder. They all looked slightly doubtful.

"I'll have to review my notes," Hota said, "but I'm pretty sure that was _not_ how that was supposed to go."

"It isn't my fault that Nephlite is being a stubborn jerk about it! He wouldn't even see her!"

"Yes, well, that was your job, wasn't it?" Seiya muttered.

"Serena," Andrew said, stepping forward. Of the three, he looked the most heartbroken. "We're very sorry to have brought you out here. We honestly thought that you were the one who could help us out. Evidently, we were wrong. So sorry to waste your time. Perhaps we should take you home now."

"Oh, no way!" Serena spat. "Nephlite is going to meet that girl, he is going to fall madly in love with her, and they are going to live happily ever after, even if I have to knock some sense into him with a two-by-four!" The guardians exchanged odd looks, possibly wondering what a two-by-four was, but Serena had already swerved on her heels and was marching back up to the door. When she looked over her shoulder, the three guardians were gone.

_Please take time to review._


	6. Cinder Girl

_Well, Nanowrimo exhausted me, but I did it! 50,375 words in 29 days. Hooray! The story is called To the Gentleman in the Back. It will eventually be posted, but if you would like to read a teaser you may find the link on my profile page. _

And now back to your regularly scheduled updates! Enjoy!

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 6: Cinder Girl  
_She sat down on a stool, took her foot out of the heavy wooden shoe, and put it into  
the slipper that fit her perfectly. After she stood up and the prince looked her straight  
in the face, he recognized the beautiful maiden who had danced with him._  
from Cinderella

_Knock! Knock! Knock!_

The same woman as before answered the door of the city's last noble home, her cold eyes glowering at Serena, but Serena ignored the glare and swept into the foyer. "Where is the cinder girl? I must see her."

"You _must_ nothing," the woman snapped, one hand resting on her hip. Her politely charming smile had vanished, replaced now by a cruel, unwelcoming gaze. "If you hadn't heard the prince, dear child, he is not interested in marrying some servant girl. Besides, you're sadly mistaken if you think that he could ever have come to—"

"_Hello?_" Serena screamed up the stairwell. "Cinderella?"

"—love that indolent stepdaughter. Besides, she wasn't even present at the ball. She was here, cleaning the—"

"_Cinderella? Cinder girl?"_

"—fireplace like the wretched maid that she is. Of course there was no way that I would ever—"

"_Where are you? I need to talk to you!_"

"—allow the girl to attend a royal ball and bring shame and humiliation upon my household and would you _stop yelling?_" Her voice had risen steadily throughout her speech so that now they both stood screaming while Serena stuck her head into each door in the entryway.

"Where is she? She must be around here somewhere. CINDERELLA!"

"Yes?"

Serena froze, her scream echoing up the staircase. Spinning around, she was met with the sight of a girl not much older than herself. Her long brown hair was being held out of her face by a scrap of green ribbon and her lightly tanned skin was smudged all over with dirt and ash. The dress she wore was too big and sagged around her shoulders and waist, while her apron was tattered and covered in soot. Her eyes, however, stole all attention away from these imperfections, captivating forest green eyes that glittered behind thick eyelashes.

"I apologize. I was milking in the back and did not hear your call." She lowered her eyes and nodded politely to her stepmother, who held a deeply creased scowl on her face. Serena noted a pale of frothing milk in her hand. "May I be of any service?"

"No," her stepmother spat. "Go finish with your chores and be quick about it. I need you to tend to Faith. She's had an accident and will need fresh bandages throughout the evening. And I noticed that you didn't finish the mending yesterday, which must be done by supper, and the fire's about to go out. Prepare more kindling. Well, get on with it! Don't dawdle, girl!"

The cinder girl curtsied gracefully and turned to leave through the same door she had come through. But before she could disappear, Serena gathered her breath and proclaimed, "Prince Nephlite of Aysel Kingdom is madly in love with you and I'm sure he will take you as his wife if you come with me to the palace right away!"

The cinder girl stumbled, her first non-graceful movement that Serena had seen. She turned back again. Milk splashed down around her ankles. "Prince . . . No. Is it true?" Her sparkling eyes filled with something quite new. Awareness, recognition, and perhaps even hope.

"Nonsense! This girl is under the impression that you attended the ball last night and we both know it isn't possible. She simply has the wrong person. Now get on with your work!"

But the girl didn't move, only stared at Serena with the same enchanted gaze. "Did he really say that he was . . . with _me?_"

Serena smiled, her feelings of irritation lifting with the joy she could see in the girl's face. She nodded. "With you. And he wants to marry you. He would have asked last night, but you ran away so quickly. Please, come with me. I'm sure once he sees you—"

"That is enough! You, get out of my house! And you, if you don't get back to work immediately I'll throw you out as well!"

But the cinder girl was already setting down the pale. "I haven't any nice clothes."

Serena smiled. "It won't matter. The castle is full of them."

"Lita," her stepmother said, quite firmly, her hysterics suddenly vanished, "you know as well as I that the prince is not in love with you. You will be laughed at and criticized and I will not have such a humiliation put upon my household. If you leave with this girl, you are no longer welcome in my home. Do you understand?"

The girl she had called Lita turned to her stepmother, her head still slightly bowed, from respect or habit, and her hands clasped together over her apron. "I understand, Stepmother. But perhaps you're wrong. Indeed, I did attend the ball last night. I even danced with Prince Nephlite. And maybe, just maybe . . ."

But her stepmother was no longer listening. Her hands were clenched in fists at her sides, her eyes wild. "_Attended the ball?_" she screamed, her shoulders shaking. "You disobeyed me! You disrespectful, inconsiderate—gah! Get out! Out of my house! I hope the prince laughs at you! I hope he makes you a scullery maid for your ungratefulness!"

Lita took a step back, momentarily surprised, before anger and stubbornness arose in her. "Well it would be better than being your slave for another day!" Untying her apron, she threw it on the ground at her stepmother's feet and stormed out the front door.

Serena chased after her, still hearing the woman screaming from the doorway. "Arrogant! Filthy! Wretched! Unappreciative tramp!"

Lita stopped on the sidewalk, slightly out of breath and her face flushed from the anger she had released. "I suppose this is yours?" she asked, indicating a stationary carriage before her. Serena blinked at it in surprise, then noticed the coachman with familiar long black hair and teardrop tattoo and smiled.

"I suppose it is," she said, holding the curtain for Lita to climb inside. Once they had both been seated on a cushioned bench, comfortable if not as luxurious as the prince's carriage, Serena found herself eyeing her new guest curiously. The spite and authority that Lita had displayed in the foyer seemed to fall away from her as she smoothed her linen skirt over her legs.

They were silent for a long moment as the carriage rumbled along the cobblestone roads, bumping and shaking as the brightly painted houses rolled by, clumped closer together as they approached the heart of the city, and the castle.

"It was the first time I've ever yelled at her."

Serena looked up, startled from watching the red and white scenery rattle by. Smiling, she said, "I do believe she deserved it," and the girl smiled back. "My name is Serena."

"And I'm Lita." After another quiet moment, she asked, quite serenely, "Are you sure he loves me?"

With a grin, Serena responded, "How could he not?"

* * *

Serena put her hand on Lita's forearm to comfort her as they walked into the throne room. The girl was shaking tremendously, once in a while reaching up to see if her hair was straight. It didn't make much of a difference among the dirt and ash smudges, but Serena still thought that she looked lovely.

The king and queen sat alone in their throne room, holding hands and chatting together. They both looked up as the two girls strode toward them. Queen Luna immediately jumped to her feet.

"Serena! Goodness, dear, Nephlite told us everything. We thought we'd never see you again!"

"Where is Nephlite? We need to see him."

The queen looked from Serena to Lita, before nodding her head. "Of course." She flicked a finger at a servant waiting at one of the curtained doorways, before hugging Serena tightly. "You poor thing, I'm so sorry how he treated you. He has quite the temper, I know, but he really is a delightful young man. It was just so emotional for him, you must understand. Oh, but what am I saying? You must be famished!" And with that, she gestured at another servant, who disappeared toward the kitchen. It was not long before Nephlite strode into the room.

His face turned dark when he saw Serena standing there, chin held high.

"What are you doing here? I told you—"

"Nephlite," she interrupted him coolly, "this is Lita. She is the girl you danced with last night."

"That's Prince Nephlite, and how do you—" he was cut short again, this time as his eyes fell on Lita. She sunk back a little under his stare, but held his gaze. Inhaling a deep breath, she attempted to stand as tall as she could, which was already quite tall to begin with, even though her natural posture was more suited for sweeping. She looked awkward in the lavish room, looking into the eyes of the handsome prince. Awkward, frightened, filthy, and immensely gorgeous.

"Her name is Lita," Serena repeated, noticing sparks between the two that may or may not have been her imagination.

Nephlite took a step closer, analyzing Lita's face. "It is you," he whispered. "But you were …. You had …." He gestured at her ragged, baggy dress and soot-stained skin.

"It was my fairy godmother," she said quietly. "She gave me the dress and the carriage and the slippers. It was all magic."

Nephlite's eyes lit at the sound of her voice. "I thought I'd never see you again!" He reached for her hands, cupping them in his palms. But instantly the light in his eyes faded and he looked down at their joined fingers. Lita followed his gaze as he turned her palms up, being met with blisters and calluses and dirt beneath her nails. Instead of pulling Lita into his arms, he dropped her hands and took a step back.

"And you are indeed a servant girl," he whispered. Turning his back to her, Nephlite lowered his head shamefully. "My apologies, Lady Lita. It appears that I was wrong. I did not fall in love with a girl; I fell in love with the magic." He paused, his voice dry and scratching at his throat. "You are dismissed."

Serena's jaw dropped. "What? Are you crazy?" She started to storm forward, but Lita held up her hand to prevent her. Lita's head was lowered, her eyes filling up with tears, though none fell. Her jaw was set.

"I see." Inhaling a slow breath, Lita slipped a hand into her dress pocket.

Nephlite remained turned from them, placing a hand on the back of his mother's throne. He ignored Lita as she approached him and brought a glass slipper out of her pocket. "If you have no need of a servant girl," she whispered, setting the slipper down on the arm of the chair, "then I have no need of a prince." She turned and walked slowly out of the room, her head high as she left. No one dared to speak until the sound of her footsteps was little more than a memory.

Serena spoke first, her anger having swelled inside her since the moment he had turned his back on them. "You are the sorriest excuse for a prince I have ever known. I am sorry and ashamed that I ever wasted my time in helping you. I hope you never find true love." She turned to leave before she resorted to screaming again. Nephlite called her name once, but she ignored him and stomped out into the hallway, heading toward the castle's southern exit. She was stopped, however, by a man, an elf, and a fairy.

"I don't want to hear it!" she screamed before any of them could so much as open their mouth. Her hands flew into the air. "I _tried!_ But there is simply no helping that man! He doesn't belong in a fairy tale, anyway. I don't know what anyone was ever thinking putting him in one. He's lousy and rude and arrogant and I bet he doesn't have one chivalrous bone in his whole body! He's not even that cute! Now I'm really sorry that your land is all messed up, but it certainly isn't my fault, and I'm not going to waste any more of my time trying to set things right if everyone's going to be so damn stubborn. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going home."

She attempted to brush past them, but Seiya stood in her way. "I'm afraid I can't let you pass."

"Why not?" she screamed.

"Because," Hota said from behind, still perched on Andrew's shoulder, "there is a very large, very hot, very delightful meal ready for you in the dining room prepared specifically for your return and if you don't come and enjoy it now, it will all go to waste."

Serena's flared frustration subsided instantly and as if on cue, her stomach rumbled loud enough for them all to hear.

"Food?"

Seiya nodded.

"And perhaps," Andrew noted, very quietly, "all this will look better on a full stomach?"

Serena harrumphed. "Doubtful." But she did turn and follow them to the dining room without further insistence.

She found the prearranged meal to be exactly as Hota had described it and so much more. Her mouth began watering as soon as she laid eyes on the extravagant feast and smelled the mixture of savory treats laid out for her. Sitting at the table, quite alone and without so much as a fork in front of her, was Princess Mina. She smiled as Serena entered and gestured at the chair beside her, which Serena gladly took.

"Please, eat as much as you like. I understand you didn't so much as bring a snack for your long quest today."

Serena began piling up the plate before her without further prompting and soon was burying her teeth in a large leg of turkey coated in a sweet mustard sauce. She became aware of her un-ladylike nature as the sauce dribbled onto her chin, but didn't mind as Mina passed her a cloth napkin and began picking green grapes off of a platter herself.

"I really must apologize for Malachite's brother," she said after the turkey leg had been devoured and Serena had moved onto a dish of red potatoes and baby carrots smothered in gravy. "Nephlite is usually very polite. It's just that, well, he has so much pride. You know, Malachite is the oldest and I think Nephlite has always looked up to him, even envied him. I was a commoner, too, here in Aysel, you know. But when I was betrothed to Malachite, they believed that I had the power to spin straw into gold. Well, I couldn't. Actually, it was that little man, that Rumpelstiltskin, that could. So, even though I was a commoner, no one knew it. They all thought I was something more, and I think Malachite and I have been very lucky that our marriage has been such a loving one, despite the strange events leading up to our engagement. Anyway, what I was trying to say is that I don't believe it has ever occurred to Nephlite to marry a . . . you know, a commoner. I'm sure if he just has some time to think it all over, after he calms down and gets over the shock, he'll see that that Lita girl is more than what one sees on the surface. You'll see. He really is a sweet man."

Serena took a sip from a crystal goblet of robust red wine. "What will happen to Lita now? Her stepmother said that she couldn't come back to live with her and since Nephlite wouldn't give her a chance, well, what's going to happen to her?"

Mina smiled. "King Artemis offered her a position here in the castle."

Serena was happy that Lita would not be thrown to the streets due to her ruthlessness, but couldn't help but to let her shoulders sink. "A scullery maid, I imagine?"

To her surprise, Mina laughed. "Oh no! I think the king took an immediate liking to her. I hear she's a very charming girl. He asked her what she would like to do, and she claimed to be quite adept at cooking. She'll begin an apprenticeship with our head chef in the kitchens tomorrow. I hope it's something she'll enjoy."

"A chef? Tell me, do the chefs often, that is to say, will she ever come in contact with Nephlite, much? In that profession?"

Mina shook her head. "It's quite unlikely. But . . . when the prince comes to his senses, he will know just where to find her." She winked and Serena began dishing herself out some honey-glazed strawberry pie.

"Well, when he does, I hope she turns him down. I hope she laughs in his face and makes him do something terribly daring and dangerous to win her back. Not that it matters," she sighed. "I won't be here to see it anyway."

"Why ever not?"

"I'm leaving first thing tomorrow morning. I was going to leave tonight, but it is getting awfully late, and I'm exhausted."

"Oh, you can't mean that. You don't really think that you aren't welcome in the castle anymore, do you? Nephlite realized you were telling the truth and knows you have just as much a right as any guest to be here. And either way, it isn't really his decision who stays and who doesn't."

"It isn't him, so much," Serena admonished, scraping her fork over a near-empty plate to pick up the last flakes of crust. "It's just that I believe I've already outworn my usefulness. I think I better go home before I cause any more trouble."

"Trouble? Oh, dear, you've been such a blessing already to this kingdom that no trouble could ever make us love you less. Besides, you can't leave tomorrow!"

"Oh?"

Mina shook her head adamantly. "Malachite's other two brothers are returning from their hunting trip tomorrow. There's going to be a huge celebration and feast and I would love for you to come. I'm sure they'll both want to meet you."

"I don't know. They'll probably be so worn out that a stranger to entertain will be a bother."

"No, no, no. They're both very friendly and, knowing them, they'll want to share every moment of the hunt with any ear willing to listen. Especially—"

"Mina, darling?" Malachite interrupted, striding into the room with baby Cytherea tucked into his arms, crying and screaming. "I think she needs her mother."

Mina smiled and moved to stand. "You will stay, won't you?"

Serena hesitated, sipping at her wine, before smiling softly. "I suppose. But just for one more day. Then I really would like to go home."

The princess beamed and gave Serena a quick hug before pulling her daughter into her arms and trotting out of the room.

* * *

Serena spent the next morning exploring the palace. Prince Jadeite, the fourth son, offered to give her a tour of the grounds, but she politely declined, claiming that she preferred to have some time alone. Truthfully, she simply felt as if she'd had enough royalty in the past twenty-four hours to last her a lifetime. She dressed as simply as she could, providing the over-luxurious dresses in her room, put her hair up, and decided to venture bare foot rather than stand another day in heels. Her personal maidens had not come to her that morning, surely to let her sleep after her hectic day searching for Nephlite's mystery girl, though she was sure they would find her before the day was through and the next feast began.

Serena soon discovered that the castle was not quite the labyrinth that she had previously perceived. Now, as she traversed the hallways, she realized that the castle was in a very predictable circular pattern. There stood an entryway for each point of the compass, and these were all flanked by tall, cylindrical towers. The outside was surrounded by a series of beautiful gardens that could be seen through every window, shadowed throughout parts of the days by the encompassing stone wall that separated the palace from the town beyond.

Excluding the towers, Serena counted seven stories in the palace, each with an identical pattern of hallways that created a round target pattern within the palace: three separate rings on each floor all interconnected by halls and rooms. Some of these rooms were very large and grand, such as the ballroom connected to the Western entrance; others were small and cozy, like a tiny reading parlor Serena discovered on the third floor. And every room looked different. Some were grand and cold, covered floor to ceiling in marble and ornate moldings, while others were warm and homely, filled with thick fur carpets and heavy draperies. But they were all beautiful, all elegant, and all fit for a queen.

Throughout her explorations, Serena kept her eyes open for any servants, specifically anyone who might look like a cook or baker, hoping that perhaps she could run into Lita or find out where she was living and working. But she saw very few people—surprisingly few people. A couple times she ran into a servant dusting a fireplace mantle or some long tapestries, and once she noticed a young boy organizing books in one of the libraries, but they all bustled away from her when she came into view with polite smiles and excessive bowing.

It was late in the afternoon when Serena discovered the grandest library she had ever seen. It took up a quarter of the entire fifth floor, the northeastern corner, Serena mused, glancing out the window to a sky that was already glowing orange beneath the drowsy sun. It was the most astonishing library she had even seen, ever imagined. Walls upon walls of books, stacks and stacks of books, books on the tables, the desks, the chairs, books beneath the windows, books on the ladders that were used to reach more books. It was chaotic, disorderly, messy, and completely delightful. Serena had usually left the love of books up to Melvin, her best friend from home, and felt overwhelmed as she walked in between the shelves and circled the room, her eyes skimming the spines, her fingers trailing over the gold embossed lettering. Despite all of the room's messiness, though, she did begin to see a pattern. On this wall she found traveling guides to other kingdoms such as the countries of Cashlin to the west and Obelia to the north. On another shelf was an array of cookbooks—_The Year's Best Sweet Potato Pies and Mother Hen's Exceptional Egg Omelets_ were among these titles. Serena continued around the room, browsing through _How to Safely Breed Giants, Modern Mysteries: The Lost World of Never Never Land,_ and _Practical Curses for Good Witches._ Eventually Serena came across an anthology called _The Royal History of Aysel Kingdom,_ and, after pulling out a volume, she jaunted over to the tall windows. She cleared a stack of books from a very cozy looking armchair and settled herself in nicely with the book in hand, casually flipping to a random page and reading the chapter heading: _King Jack IV._

King Jack IV, it turned out, was a kind and generous ruler who had come to the throne at the young age of 11. He was betrothed to Princess Jill of Cashlin Kingdom, whom he was to marry on his 14th birthday. However, their wedding never took place as Jack, at the age of 13, while trying to help a servant carry a pale of water from a well down to the kitchens, fell off of a small cliff and landed himself a fatal concussion. Heartbroken, Princess Jill jumped off of a much larger cliff the following week. This tragedy did, however, prompt the kingdom's finest engineers to install indoor plumbing to cut down on trips to and from the water well.

Serena shook her head ironically and flipped some more through the large volume.

Queen Goldilocks, she discovered, had been the great-great-great niece of King Jack IV. After thirty years of a successful marriage (rendering 12 sons) her husband had gone missing from a hunting trip and she had taken it upon herself to find him. Sadly, she wandered into an unwelcoming house of bears and was "gobbled up" one night. Neither she nor her husband were ever heard from again (lord only knows what happened to the poor king) and their eldest son, Peter, became the kingdom's heir.

Peter's fate was not much better, however, when the people overthrew him due to obsessive compulsive and psychopathic tendencies, such as his insistence on keeping his wife locked up in a humungous pumpkin shell (which had been created by a fairy godmother—out of a horse-drawn carriage).

Loud horns and cheering interrupted Serena's reading. She looked around for a moment, before realizing that the sound was coming from outside. Setting the book down at her feet, she walked over to the huge window and peered out onto the garden. A parade of townspeople were all dancing and skipping along the main road, following a small procession of about twenty men, all of whom looked to be dirty, ragged, covered in mud, and beaming at the people who had come to welcome them. Serena could not see any of their faces but knew immediately that this was the hunting party Mina had talked of the night before. She could guess who the two princes were, though she could not see any of the men clearly, as she saw Queen Luna ran down to greet them, cupping two of the leading men's cheeks and kissing them furiously, though she avoided their filthy cloaks and tunics. She ushered her sons inside. Serena could glimpse the other three princes, King Artemis, and Princess Mina all waiting for them within the garden and greeting them with hugs and kisses. Six of the other members of the hunting party followed them into the castle, carrying large animal carcasses on makeshift cots, while the rest of the men dispersed to their families in the town.

As the cheering died down and the crowd thinned and the last few stragglers returned to their dwellings, Serena returned to her large chair and sank down into the seat. She lifted the book into her lap and turned to a chapter titled "The Frog Prince: Hacho and His Curse." But she soon found herself unable to concentrate—her mind kept returning to the image of Queen Luna cupping one her son's faces between her palms and kissing him on the forehead. Something about that prince in particular left her distracted. Something strangely familiar, perhaps the way he carried himself or the strange glinting of the setting sun against his hair. She sat in her own thoughts for a long time as the sky darkened beyond the wall of glass, her fingers blindly flipping through pages as her eyes stared up into the walls and books around her.

A gentle tapping stirred her and she saw that the elf, Andrew, had entered the room dressed in a handsome white tunic and silver cloak. She set the book down and stood, attempting a curtsy. He chuckled. "My apologies for interrupting you, Lady Serena, but I was sent to tell you that dinner will be served shortly and—" he paused, surveying her dress and bare feet and clearing his throat, "—perhaps you would like to change before we gather in the dining hall?"

Serena flushed, attempting to tuck her feet back behind her skirt. "Of course. Thank you, Andrew."

"Come, I'll show you back to your room."

She followed him to the guest suites and was once again left in the care of her four careful attendants who quickly undressed her, rubbed a damp warm rag over her body, and dressed her once more in two layers of undergarments, stockings, and a dress that was not as elegant as the one she had worn to the ball, yet still perfectly lovely and full. Her hair was taken down from its buns and pulled back into a roll at the nape of her neck and a small silver pendant was hung from a chain against her collarbone. Serena couldn't help admiring the maiden's work in the mirror, even when they brought out another pair of satin slippers with heels that she was beginning to dread.

When she stepped out of her room and into the hallway, Andrew greeted her with a warm smile. They began walking toward the dining room. "You look more beautiful every time I lay eyes on you, Lady Serena," he said.

"Surely you say that to every girl you meet."

"No. Only the ones that it is truthful of."

She laughed.

They continued chatting as he led her through the curving hallways and soon she was in front of the immense dining hall, aromas of delightful foods wafting on the air. Her mouth began to water. Once again, she realized that she had hardly eaten all day, which was terribly unusual for her.

"I do hope you'll enjoy your meal, and I'm sure you'll adore the third and fifth born princes. Especially Prince Zoicite. He's quite the romantic."

"You mean you won't be joining us?"

"Oh, no, mi'lady. I am but a humble guardian. My place is not with that of royalty. But, should you need me, I will be near." With a respectful nod, he disappeared around a bend.

Serena walked calmly into the room. All the familiar faces were there: King Artemis and Queen Luna, Malachite and Mina, who held little Cytherea, Nephlite, and Jadeite, all dressed in fine gowns and tunics.

"Oh! Serena, you've arrived!" the queen squealed, rushing to her and grasping one of her hands. "Please, I want you to meet my other sons. This is Zoicite." She gestured to a handsome man with shaggy dark blonde hair that tumbled over one shoulder in a messy ponytail. He smiled whimsically with a distant look in his eye and politely kissed the back of her hand.

"A pleasure," Zoicite murmured.

"And this is my youngest son," Queen Luna continued, wrapping her other hand around the stranger's arm and pulling him face to face with Serena.

Serena's eyes fell upon him and her heart stopped beating.

"_Darien?_"

* * *

_Happy? Please Review!_


	7. The Youngest Prince

**Announcements: **

The Professional won for Best Fanfic of 2005! Thanks to everyone who voted. Remember to cast your nominations for 2006.

Good luck to those of you in the midst of finals, and congrats to those of you who have completed them.

And Happy Holidays! Keep your eyes peeled for a special holiday gift from me within the next week.

Enjoy!

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 7: The Youngest Prince  
_It came to pass that the king of the country held a great hunt  
in the forest, and soon horns could be heard along with the barking  
of dogs and the merry cries of the huntsmen._  
from Brother and Sister

Serena squeaked and stumbled ungracefully back into Prince Zoicite, who quickly steadied her. "Darien? Darien Shields?" she breathed, gawking at the prince.

With a furrowed brow, the youngest prince tilted his head to one side, his messy black hair falling into vibrant blue eyes. "Excuse me?" he said, his lips curving with amusement as he watched the color drain from Serena's face then coming rushing back to it tenfold as she recognized the voice she had heard countless times in class and while placing herself strategically in the same lunch line.

"Darien, it is you!" she squealed giddily and lunged at the prince, wrapping him in a zealous hug. He tried desperately to both catch her and steady himself, but the momentum of her body sent him toppling to the floor, taking Serena down with him. "Oh! I'm so sorry, are you alright?" she cried, but without waiting for a response, she buried her head happily against his neck. "It's just so unbelievably good to see a familiar face, you don't even _know_ how homesick I've been, and while everyone's been so nice here I really miss Mom and Melvin and the school and all of the students there and seeing you just reminds me how much I want to go home so don't be mad for the forwardness because I know we never really knew each other, but it's just _so good_ to see you!"

Grinning, she pulled herself away and quickly checked for signs of pain from the stunned boy, but seeing none, she hid her face against his shoulder again. "Is it really you, Darien? I can't believe it! How did you get here? How did you know?" Her abounding joy made it easy to forget the awkward position she had landed the two of them, in front of the entire royal family, but she could think of nothing more than hugging him, the only connection to her world, her school, her friends, that she had seen in days—a few short days that felt like a year. But it was not long before she realized that the prince was not hugging her back. She pulled away, a hurt frown appearing on her face. "Darien?"

His entire body was stiff, as though he was afraid to move, and he was looking at her like one might look at a talking cat who was trying to convince them of life on the moon. Serena blinked uncomfortably, her smile fading, and again asked, "Darien?" Her sense returning, Serena suddenly saw herself not in the grand dining room in Aysel Castle, but rather Crossroads High's auditorium, surrounded not by a royal family full of friends, but rather her peers who could be kind or cruel. And for her to tackle Darien, Darien Shields of all people, seemed suddenly abominable. All this occurred to her as she sat staring into the stunned eyes of her four-year-long, impossible crush.

Gasping, she tore herself off of his lap and threw herself backward, being caught, once again, by a silent Prince Zoicite. Trembling, she clasped her hands over her mouth. "I'm… I'm really sorry. I know that wasn't really… er… appropriate, but it's just… seeing you… it just…"

Queen Luna cleared her throat, cutting short Serena's rambling, and asked, much to Serena's bewilderment, "Endymion, darling, have you met Lady Serena before?"

The prince, still seated with his rump on the marble floor, pealed his curious eyes away from Serena, to his mother, and back, and slowly answered, to Serena's even greater shock, "I . . . don't believe I've had the pleasure. . . ."

Serena flinched. "What?" She tried to chuckle like it was a joke, but could see that Darien was not laughing, nor did he have that teasing gleam in his eyes that he would have had were he only playing a game. No, he looked perfectly confused and maybe even a touch nervous. "Darien, what do you mean? I mean, I know we weren't close and it wouldn't surprise me that you wouldn't even know my name, but… but we've gone to the same school for four years. We've had classes together! I sat behind you in algebra, remember? I was the girl always asking to borrow a pencil. Serena. Serena Tsukino?"

No recognition. After looking hopelessly at his family, Darien finally shook his head and, with the help of Malachite's outstretched hand, pulled himself to his feet and dusted off his pants. "I'm sorry, but I think you have me confused with someone else. I am Prince Endymion of Aysel Kingdom," he admitted, with the slightest hint of mockery in his otherwise calm voice. "And I assure you, we have never met. I think I would remember." His expression turned to teasing insinuation with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Serena felt her legs go weak, as they always did on those rare occasions when Darien's gorgeous blue eyes would meet hers, but she forced them to hold her body weight as she pulled herself from Zoicite's forgotten hold and backed away from Prince Endymion. Under her scrutiny, the prince lifted his chin and tucked back his shoulders. And his eyes were the same shade, the same shape, and his cheekbones and jaw were just as strong and angular, and his lips quirked just the same, but…

But there was something different.

Serena drew her brow down, blinking in disbelief.

Darien's lips always quirked to the left when he was being sarcastic.

The lips of the prince looking at her now quirked to the right.

She gulped.

Perhaps it was his stature, but the prince seemed a tiny bit taller.

And, yes, his shoulders were wider, and his arms were broader and his chest fuller and there was a tiny scar above his right eyebrow—whereas Darien's face had always been flawless.

"Oh," Serena muttered, her voice wobbling. "Oh. Well, my apologies. I must have . . . thought you. . . . It's just that you look remarkably. . . ." She paused, trying to gather her thoughts, and finally turned her gaze away from the prince to the tiled marble floor. Clearing her throat, she mumbled, "If you'll excuse me." Turning, she ran from the dining hall, leaving a confused royal family in her wake.

* * *

Serena dashed through the hallways, turning aimlessly toward whichever direction struck her fancy. She knew that she could go back to her room, or out to the gardens, or up to the library again. It didn't matter. She just ran. _Anywhere,_ she thought. _Anywhere but that dining hall._

A sudden wall loomed in front of her and she crashed, squealed, and tumbled down to the floor, gasping for breath.

She looked up to see, not a wall, but an irritated Seiya above her.

"You!" she screamed, pointing up at the man.

He raised his eyebrow in silent response.

"You did this! You and your guardian buddies! Why? Did you know? Is this some sort of a joke? Are you making fun of me?" she wailed, bursting into frustrated sobs.

"What are you babbling about?" he asked, feigning mild interest.

"Don't you dare _pretend_ you don't know!" Serena screeched through her tears. "You must have known! Or that cat or that old man or… or somebody must have known! This is a joke to you, isn't it? A sick... perverted..." She could get no further as her voice clogged and she found herself struggling just to breathe as the painful sobs racked her.

"Well, _that_ was quite the show," giggled a petite voice, barely heard over the girl's crying. Hota fluttered down the hallway from which Serena had come and settled herself neatly on the marble floor, her hands sassily on her hips.

Serena immediately turned her reddened eyes on the fairy and swatted at the oncoming tears with a sleeve. Forcing her jaw not to quiver, she continued her angry interrogation on the miniature guardian. "Why didn't anyone tell me about him?"

"You mean Prince Endymion, I presume?"

Serena glowered.

"Well, darling, how were we to know that you would react like that at nothing more than a pretty face? I realize that the youngest prince is quite handsome, but honestly, you are being slightly melodramatic, don't you think?"

Serena's tears stopped as quickly as they had come. Her flushed face glared at the pixie, half-certain that she was playing some sort of practical joke on her.

"No, I don't think," she hissed. "He—that prince—looks _exactly,_ well, almost exactly, like this boy that I… that I know! From my world. A boy that I… that I… someone could have at least warned me!"

Hota calmly tilted her head to the side. "Now, this is quite exciting and interesting, I'll admit. Even _dramatic._ But I fail to see how this impacts any of us. Just because he reminds you of someone is no reason to get carried away like this. Prince Endymion is a fairy story prince, just like his brothers, and he has been since the day he was born. I watched him grow up. We all did. You are overreacting."

"I am not overreacting! I was in—" Serena gasped and slammed her lips shut, biting her tongue and turning angrily away.

Hota was quiet a moment, exchanging peculiar looks with Seiya before inhaling a long sigh. "Alright, child, you're being perfectly calm and rational then. But regardless, the feast is getting cold and I'm sure they won't wait for you forever."

"Oh, no, I'm not going back there, not after all that. I made such a fool of myself! In front of them all, and it wasn't even Darien. . . . No, you can tell them to have my meal brought to my room." She stood up and folded her arms, briefly trying to remember where she was, before choosing a direction and starting to walk away.

"That won't do at all," Hota called, floating after her. "Let's not forget why you're here. You have a very important duty to fulfill, and part of that duty lies in fraternizing with the royal family so that you can find out what's going on and what all the problems are and how you can fix them."

Serena rolled her eyes. "I don't care about your stupid stories. Tomorrow I am going home! To my mom, and Melvin, and Darien Shields!"

"Really? Oh, that's very sad," Hota said wistfully, if altogether disbelievingly. "You'll miss the wedding ceremony."

Serena stopped walking and turned to Hota, her spirits lifting. "Wedding ceremony? But you don't mean... Did Nephlite find Lita? Did he propose?" she asked hopefully, but Hota shook her head.

"No, not _his_ wedding."

"Who else is getting married?"

"Why, Prince Endymion is."

Serena's excited grin faded.

Though she tried to tell herself that the prince of Aysel and the heartthrob of Crossroads were two different people, that he was not the same boy she looked forward to seeing every day, who could make her laugh as easily as he could make her cry, Serena still felt a sudden wave of dizziness and a knot formed unbidden in her stomach. It wasn't her childhood, impossible crush who was getting married! What should she care? What did it matter to her if that prince—with the same haunting blue eyes and quirky smile—was engaged, in love, with someone else?

Nevertheless, Serena couldn't keep a hint of disappointment from her voice when she asked, "Prince Endymion is getting married?"

"Oh yes," Hota quipped proudly. "One of the few tales in this land that hasn't gone painfully awry, I would say. He's been betrothed since the girl was born and her sixteenth birthday is fast approaching, the day after they are to be wed. I thought that since you seem peculiarly attached to him, you might care a bit. But if not, then by all means, we'll look into taking you home in the morning. Sleep well."

Hota joined Seiya, who had watched the conversation with mute interest, and the two of them continued quietly down the hall, away from the dining room.

Serena stood still for a long time, before slowly making her way down the hallway toward her quarters. _He's just another prince,_ she thought bitterly. _I'm sure it's just some bizarre coincidence. They're probably complete opposites as far as personalities go. Identical only on the outside. Of course, that makes much more sense._

She paused at a fork in the hallway, one leading toward her bedroom, the other back toward the dining hall, and sighed. _Well, if that's the case, it wouldn't hurt to meet him and talk to him, just for awhile. And then I would know for sure. Yes, that will do just fine._ With a relieved—even slightly excited—smile, she jaunted back to the feast.

* * *

When Serena entered the dining room, the royal family was already seated, gorging on venison and various breads and sauces. Endymion stood at the far end of the long table, vividly recounting their hunting adventures as the king and queen, Mina, and three of his older brothers listened with rapt attention. Prince Zoicite alone seemed uninterested. He sat silently picking at the salad before him.

Mina spotted Serena from across the room and waved excitedly, motioning toward the empty seat beside her, and Serena gratefully, silently, sat beside the princess and began dishing lamb and mushroom casserole onto her plate. She was politely ignored by the rest of the feasters and it suddenly struck her what an embarrassing scene she had made earlier. Only Mina seemed oblivious as she leaned over and whispered to Serena a comforting, "Are you alright?"

Serena smiled the friendliest smile she could and nodded, grateful for Mina's always welcoming attitude.

Humility was never her strong point, though, and she soon took to watching Endymion tell his stories just as adamantly as the other listeners. In a way, it felt like a strange fantasy coming true—eating a large feast with Darien and his, well, extended family. Like if she'd been dating him in real life and had been invited over for Thanksgiving dinner or something. It felt peculiarly normal and for a moment, she let herself get carried away with the fantasy.

"So there we were," Endymion said mysteriously, both hands gesturing for emphasis. "The buck was cornered—and he knew it. He looked at us with his fierce black eyes and tossed his head from side to side. He was desperate. Wild. I told the men to hang back while I crept up closer, sword in one hand, spear in the other." He grabbed up a fork and knife to symbolize the weapons and Serena noticed that his plate had not seen food that night. The onlookers hung motionless in anticipation. "I crept closer under the canopy of bushes. The forest was completely silent. I could hear nothing but the heavy breathing of the buck as he snorted angrily—now only a few feet ahead. Then—a twig broke—SNAP!—right behind me and he swerved. His eyes were level with me now. He stomped one hoof on the dirt. Once, twice, then he hunched his broad shoulders and lowered his huge antlers. Ready for one last, desperate struggle.

"I considered signaling the archers, but I knew that they couldn't stun or kill him. And if he was attacked now, he was going to charge straight for me. So, instead, I held his gaze and kept perfectly still. The minutes ticked by. The air was frozen around us—not a breeze, not a sound could be heard.

"Finally, bracing myself, I lifted the spear and threw it hard as I could right at his heart! But he hauled forward and the blade struck his shoulder. The buck reared up on his hind legs and when he landed he was furious! I only had a moment to situate myself before he was coming for me, his massive horns poised at my chest. I dodged and swung my sword, but only grazed his side as he rushed past. He turned again, just as a rain of arrows poured down from all sides. Kicking and baying, he lunged, but I was more prepared now. The arrows had barely weakened the beast, but greatly aggravated him.

"I saw him coming. The ground quaked under his hooves. I dug my heels into the earth and raised the sword up, and just as he was bearing down on top of me, I sprung forward and thrust the blade—hard as I could—into his gut!" The crowd gasped. The women buried their mouths into cloth napkins and peered out with huge, wide eyes. But Serena did not. She only watched the familiar grin on Endymion's face: the excited eyes, the exaggerated gestures, and she listened to the familiar risings and fallings of his voice. In this, she was perhaps the most dumbstruck of the crowd.

"It was only then that I found myself completely helpless," Endymion continued dramatically. "The buck knew he was dying, and he planned to take me down with him. I was weaponless as he hovered over me with his powerful legs. My spear had fallen too far away and my sword was lost buried in his flesh. I tried to scramble away in vain. The archers would not fire for fear that they would hit me. Then, just as I was preparing myself to be crushed to death, Zoicite jumped to my rescue! With one swipe of his sword, he slit the beast's throat!"

Another gasp from the crowd and Prince Jadeite gave Zoicite a proud clap on the back. The hero, however, only managed a small smile as he mindlessly tore a piece of bread into a pile of crumbs.

Endymion continued, "With more power than I've ever seen a fighter use, he stabbed the buck in its side—quick as lightning—before he could recover from the shock. We were both covered in warm blood as the buck stumbled . . . swayed . . . cast one more desperate, beautiful look at us. Then his knees buckled and he collapsed to the ground. He drew one last shuddering breath and closed his eyes for the last time." Endymion inhaled a long, deep breath as the story hung over the table, closed his eyes as if to symbolize the passing of the deer, and finally sat down. He immediately pulled a huge chunk of roasted meat onto his plate and began devouring it greedily.

Soon, the room was alive with chattering and praise as the family admired the brave hunters. Endymion answered all the questions with a proud grin and a mouth full of food while Zoicite sat silently staring into a glass of red wine.

Serena did not join in the conversation, nor was she asked to. Picking at a stem of grapes, she kept her eyes mostly attached to the guests of honor—Endymion seemed a sight for sore, homesick eyes, and while she could distinguish more slight differences the longer she watched him, he also became more familiar as time went by. The way he chewed his food, how he unconsciously tested his slick black hair with his fingertips, the way he held his fork, used his napkin, and licked his lips. It hurt her to know that he wasn't her Darien, that they did not have that initial bond she first thought they would share—even if it was as small and simple as going to the same school. In this foreign, make-believe world, that had seemed like an awful lot. But he was not _her_ Darien. And when she thought of what Hota had said, that Prince Endymion was betrothed to a princess, a sharp pain tore at her heart. And yet, why should that be?

And then there was Zoicite, who did not seem as if he could possibly be related to his energetic brother. He had hardly eaten and Serena hadn't heard him speak a word since their initial meeting. She doubted, though, that this was only his personality—quiet and withdrawn. For, as she watched him from the corner of her eye, she noticed him smile whimsically to himself, before the little grin would fade and be replaced with a lost, despairing frown. These emotions varied and changed privately throughout the meal and when the servants came to collect the dishes, Prince Zoicite was the first to leave the table.

* * *

After all the dishes had been cleared away, the royal family drifted into a seating room, Endymion and his brothers joking and playing. He had barely glanced at Serena, and even Mina had seemed to slowly lose interest in entertaining her as she was swept into the friendly chatter of the family. So when they all slipped out of the kitchen, Serena turned and walked the other way. Her thoughts buzzed with questions and curiosities, memories and images, but no answers and no certainties. She found herself continuously comparing Prince Endymion with Darien Shields, like a broken record of every physical characteristic she had memorized, every personality quirk she had longed for familiarity with. Prince Endymion didn't even act like a stereotypical prince, not like Malachite and Nephlite did, at least. It seemed to her that if he could be taken out of this fairy tale world and put into her school, he would blend in perfectly with all the other students. He would become popular and desirable—just like his other- worldly counterpart.

Serena meandered slowly through the halls and found herself out in a courtyard, the same courtyard, she realized, that she had entered when following Rumpelstiltskin into the castle, only a few days ago. Though when she had first seen this garden it had been early afternoon. Now it was after dusk and the high walls hid the sun's last orange beams from her. The sky itself was the color of robins' eggs, speckled with stars and a few wispy navy clouds.

She removed her slippers before walking into the garden, finding the clover between the black and white tiles with her bare feet. The green leafs comforted her toes, their cool softness padding each foot as she made her way around the chess piece foliage. She had begun to follow the path only a little ways to the right, toward the setting sun, when she heard the grand double door open again. Her first thought, _Darien,_ turned out to be premature as she turned around and saw only Andrew, smiling his flirtatious elf smile. She smiled back half-heartedly.

"Would you like some company, Lady?"

She shrugged, turning back to the path. "Sure." She heard him come up behind her and was soon at her side, admiring the same shrubberies, although he must have seen them a million times.

"I trust that your worries concerning the youngest prince have ebbed?"

She looked at Andrew from the corner of her eye. "What worries?"

"Oh, about him possibly being your friend-fellow from your land. You surely recognize now that they are two different people?"

She pursed her lips together and looked down at the moss stretched out before her. "Yeah," she whispered vaguely. "I guess so."

"Good. Then you have no qualms of staying longer? We really could use your help, Lady Serena."

She snorted. "Yeah, I've been a huge help so far. Turning poor Lita into a servant in the house of that pompous prince Nephlite."

Andrew chuckled. "I understand why you are so bitter about that situation, but I do believe things will turn out for the good between them. It only needs a little bit of time. And because of you, once the prince comes around, he'll at least be able to find the girl. Besides, she's an apprentice, not a servant, and that is better than life with her stepmother any day, wouldn't you think?"

"I suppose." She knew he had a point, but couldn't help wishing that her first real fairy-tale endeavor (Rumpelstiltskin seemed like a fluke) had been more "happily ever after" than "things will turn out."

"There was something special between this Darien fellow and yourself, wasn't there?" Andrew asked nonchalantly, though the impromptu question made Serena's feet stumble beneath her.

Nervously, she answered, "I just gave the prince a hug, Andrew. No big deal."

His green eyes glittered at her. "I was referring to the Darien from your world, of course."

"I know," Serena said with a noncommittal shrug.

"I only ask because when you first saw the prince and believed him to be this friend of yours, you greeted him... quite enthusiastically."

Serena felt a blush climbing into her cheeks and wondered if she would ever live that embarrassing moment down. Shrugging, she looked down at her feet as they walked. "Nothing special... actually, we barely knew each other. Scratch that, he didn't know me at all. We've gone to the same school since I was in fifth grade, and we've had a few classes together, but I doubt I've said more than fifty words to him, and vice versa."

Andrew nodded.

"I sure did enjoy those fifty words, though," she mumbled whimsically, ignorant of the knowing quirk of Andrew's lips. "I think I'm just a little homesick. I'm sure that seeing someone—anyone—from my world would have prompted that same reaction. Even… even Ms. Haruna. Or the librarian. Or that weird girl who always picks her nose in history. So when I saw Dar—Endymion, I just got really excited." She paused, noticing that her voice had faded to the point where she was almost talking to herself. Shaking off the reminiscent feeling, she finished, "That's all. There was nothing special between us. Nothing at all."

Andrew nodded again, but from the corner of her eye, Serena could tell by the expression on his face that Andrew hadn't been completely convinced. She frowned, wondering exactly who she'd been trying to convince.

One thing was for certain though: she did miss home. And she did miss seeing Darien every day between classes. And she probably would not have tackled the weird girl from history class.

Serena was surprised to see that they had reached the western entrance to the castle and the sky's twilight colors had been replaced with a deep royal blue and a few clusters of premature stars. Looking farther down the path, her eye came across an unexpected sight: Prince Zoicite humming to himself on a marble bench. In his hands he held a stem of hyacinths, twisting it between his fingers and staring dazedly at their little purple petals.

Andrew had noticed the young man, too, and cleared his throat to alert the prince to their presence. Zoicite, however, did not notice them, so lost was he in his thoughts.

"Prince Zoicite?" Serena called quietly, and when there was no response, called again. Finally, the prince glanced up, looking as if he had been roughly awoken from a good dream. He immediately composed himself and jumped to his feet, hiding the flower behind his back and bowing low to Serena and Andrew.

"Mi'Lady, and Sir, a pleasant evening to you both," he said, the words rolling easily as if he had been born saying them. Serena smiled and curtsied as well as she could.

"A pleasant evening, indeed," the elf chirped. "May we perhaps join you for a moment?"

It looked very much like Zoicite wanted to decline the offer, but he instead nodded and took a seat on the far end of the bench, making room for both of them. Serena sat beside him, but Andrew claimed a patch of grass directly across the little path.

"That was a beautiful song you were humming," Serena said as Zoicite once again began twirling the flower in his lap.

"Thank you," he replied hoarsely, and already his eyes seemed to find something very interesting in the path, his expression showing no sign that he even knew that Serena and Andrew were still there. Serena shifted uncomfortably and looked at Andrew. He was frowning and shrugged at Serena, suggesting that this was odd behavior for the prince.

"Prince Zoicite, I do not mean to pry," Andrew began gently, trying to lean forward into Zoicite's line of vision, "but you have been acting rather odd since you returned this afternoon. Is there anything that we might be able to help with? Or that you would like to talk about?"

Zoicite looked at the elf for a long time, before throwing the flower aside and burying his face into both palms with a frustrated groan. Serena shrunk back, wondering if Andrew had said something wrong, but then Zoicite began talking.

"Yes, I think it would do me well to talk to someone about it, though I don't know where to begin. It's a strange story," he started, raising his eyes to stare up at the dark, cloudless horizon. "But I think… I think I've fallen in love."

* * *

**Please review.**


	8. The Curse of Briar Rose

**Happy New Year, everyone! Hope you all had a lovely holiday and have many great plans for 2007. **

Thanks, as always, is in store for Phantasy Star, an extraordinary editor.

And to all reviewers, who are filled with brilliant ideas that I kind of wish I'd thought of myself. I hope you enjoy what I've got planned.

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 8: The Curse of Briar Rose  
_Without greeting anyone or looking around, the witch cried out  
with a loud voice, "In her fifteenth year the princess shall prick  
herself with a spindle and fall down dead!"_  
from Brier Rose

The moon had crept up over the castle walls as Serena, Andrew, and Zoicite sat in the gardens. The prince fixated his gaze on it as he eagerly told the story of what had happened during the hunt he and Endymion had just returned from, as if he'd wanted to tell it for a long time but had had no one to confide in.

"It happened the third night after we had set out," he began. "We had gone north and were a few miles southeast of the kingdom of Obelia. It was mid-afternoon and the men had just stopped to rest and take lunch, but I was restless and so I left the group for a while. I didn't plan on being gone for long. I thought I'd just to go for a short walk and see what I could find. And I'm sure I hadn't gotten far from the group when I heard. . . ." he paused, his eyes glazing over, "singing.

"But it wasn't just—I mean, there's no way to describe it. This singing—it wasn't a song I'd ever heard before, and the voice . . . was the most beautiful sound. No, beautiful doesn't begin to describe it." He inhaled a deep breath, shaking the sound from his head, "So I followed it. It sounded like a girl, but was too heavenly. I thought perhaps an angel or a nymph. I even thought it might be some evil sorceress in the woods, but the sound was far too pure for me to believe that. I must have walked for a mile or two or three until I came to a large field full of sticker bushes. In the center was a tower—that was where the singing was coming from. From a single window in the very top of that tower. I was entranced by it, completely enchanted, so I walked all around the base of the tower, but there was no door, no stairs, not even a ladder. I must have searched over every stone, but there was nothing, I'm quite sure of it. Then I heard footsteps, so I hid and watched as an old, ugly woman walked up to the tower. She was a small woman, covered in wrinkles and with deep sunken eyes, but there was something about her stride and stature that frightened me. She stopped beneath the tower's window and called out, 'Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair, that I may climb the lovely stair.' The singing stopped and a moment later a waterfall of thick hair of the strangest color I've ever seen cascaded out of the window. It looked blue in the sunlight, almost the same color as the sky, and it tumbled almost to the ground. Then the old woman climbed up it, quick and nimble as an elf. She disappeared into the window and I heard nothing for a long time." He sighed. "It was getting dark then, so I returned to the hunting party. I told them all that I'd been tracking a doe, but it had gotten away." Zoicite shrugged, picking up the purple hyacinth again. "And now I can't get the singing out of my head. It's all I can think about. It's in my dreams, waking and sleeping. I hear it in the wind and in the birds' songs. I'm surrounded by it. Perhaps she was an enchantress after all."

"No," Serena said, grabbing Zoicite's hand. "Maybe she's just a beautiful girl with a beautiful voice. And maybe it was destiny that you heard her, and now you must go rescue her from the evil witch that keeps her imprisoned in that tower."

Zoicite gave her a strange look and stopped twirling the flower. Before he could respond, Andrew added enthusiastically, "Of course, it could very well be true love, Prince Zoicite. Surely if this voice has so enchanted you, one can only imagine what the whole girl would do."

"But I didn't even see her."

"But wouldn't you like to?" Serena asked.

The prince didn't answer for a long time, just stared at Serena and Andrew before slightly shrugging his shoulders. "Yes," he admonished. "I've painted a million pictures of her in my mind, and have tried desperately to try and draw what I see," he gestured to a thick pad of paper and a few sticks of charcoal beside him that Serena hadn't before noticed, "but it eludes me. I can't possibly portray a woman gorgeous enough to possess that angelic voice. And that hair." He hesitated. "Do you suppose Rapunzel is her name?"

Serena nodded. "Certainly it is."

"A strange name. Strange and beautiful."

"You must go find her again. You must save her!" Serena prodded. She could tell that Zoicite was trying to disagree, but knew that her suggestion was one he had been dwelling on heavily before.

"But what if she's not a prisoner? What if she likes the tower?"

Serena gave him an exasperated look. "Would you like being locked up in a tower with no stairs and no door? And would you like some old woman to come and climb up your hair every day?"

Zoicite shook his head. "No, I guess you're right. But . . . it's foolish. I don't even know the girl! What if she isn't smart or charming or kind?"

"But what if she is? What if she is really the girl of your dreams?" Andrew pointed out, and Serena realized just why he had been made the Guardian of Romance. "Will you let her slip from your grasp?"

Zoicite fidgeted uncertainly.

"Besides," Serena continued, "just because you rescue her doesn't mean you have to marry her." She said it to ease his mind, though she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would want to marry her once he had met Rapunzel, for of course he was the prince in the story.

This must be his tale.

Soon, a small smile spread over Zoicite's face, as if he had finally made his decision, and was quite happy with it. "Yes, you're right. Both of you. I _will_ go and rescue her! I have to, or what kind of prince would I be? And supposing she is my one and only, my other half, how silly have I been to ever think otherwise?" He quickly stood from the bench, gathering up his paper and charcoal. "It's decided. I'll leave first thing in the morning."

"Be careful!" Serena called to Zoicite as he swept off toward the castle. When she turned back to Andrew, he was watching her with a proud grin.

"We were wrong to ever doubt you. You are indeed the Chosen One. Hota will be glad when she hears about this."

Serena was about to refute, but decided not to. After all, she had convinced one prince to do what he was supposed to, and it wasn't even that hard. Maybe she wasn't too bad at this after all. "Just Hota? You don't think Seiya will be happy too?"

Andrew laughed. "Doubtful. He's rarely happy. And besides, there hasn't been any tragedy in this story—yet."

* * *

The girl stepped out onto her balcony, tying her hair at the nape of her neck with a large ribbon. The ribbon was long and abused, its frayed ends whipping against her face in the windy night. With a sigh no one heard, she leaned against the railing, staring only for a moment at the overcast night sky, before lowering her gaze to the forest below her. The trees reached up toward her like fingers of a friend she had known all her life but could never reach out to. They spread out into the familiar landscape, fading into the horizon's shadows. She watched as the wind teased them and tugged at the crimson and gold leaves, sending them silently to the hidden forest floor. She watched the last stray bird glide into a nest hidden down beneath the boughs to perch, safely concealed, for the night. She watched as a streak of moon wash broke through the clouds and lit upon the trees' fingertips, before being pulled roughly back up to heaven, leaving nothing but darkness.

She watched and watched until her arms were covered in gooseflesh and the cotton shawl around her shoulders could no longer keep out the autumn cold, and still she saw no face in the bushes. No mysterious, shy, beautiful eyes peering back up at her from the foliage. She did not begin to sing, afraid to disturb the quiet taunting of the wilderness laid out at her feet, and instead turned back into her room. The only room she had ever known. Tossing her shawl aside, she crawled beneath quilts and feathers and closed her eyes, seeing once again the face that had haunted her for nearly a week. The face that she feared she had only imagined into being, but that she couldn't give the credit to her mind for such a lovely thing. It was a face like none other she had ever seen, no deer or badger or possum or bear in the wood had ever had such a face, and she could only think of one word to describe it, though she knew not if it was accurate. It was a word that her memory had conjured back from the bedtime tales her keeper had told her years before, of a certain creature she did not even know truly existed. Surely, she had never seen one in the trees, the air, or the river that ran swiftly in early spring. Bur perhaps, now she had.

She fell asleep thinking it.

_Prince._

* * *

Serena awoke with a start, her stomach gnawing in distress and a light sweat on her brow. Images from her nightmare stood in her mind, vivid and harsh, before receding into the depths of allusive sleep. She sat in her bed, trying to pull the images back and push them away at the same time, her mind sifting through warnings, horrors, and the familiar tale of a maiden trapped in a tower.

Swinging her legs off the bed, she threw a cloak over her nightgown and ran barefoot into the hallway. Already, the sun's first rays were working their way over the horizon and into the crystal windows of the castle. As she made her way to the kitchen, realizing she had no clue where any of the princes' personal chambers were but hoping to find someone who could tell her, her mind continued to echo with the last tendrils of the dream.

_A prince climbing into the tower on the hair of a beautiful maiden, only to be met by the cruel grin of a witch. A knife tight in one fist, the golden hair-rope in the other. A stab, a cry, a fall. Brambles clawing at the cloak. The skin. The horrified, bloodied eyes_.

Serena didn't realize she'd been running until she skidded around a corner and collided into the towering form of Prince Endymion. He impulsively reached out to steady her as she took a startled step backward.

"Good morning," he said awkwardly, eyeing the girl's flustered expression.

"Zoicite," Serena managed between gasps.

"No, I'm Endymion. Remember, the one you—"

"No, where _is_ he? Prince Zoicite—I need to see him immediately."

Endymion furrowed his brow and removed his supportive arm, shrugging. "He left."

"Left? Left where? It's barely dawn!"

"He was up before the rooster this morning, with breakfast, a saddled horse, and off to the north. Some servants saw him go, though he didn't say where he was off to. What do you need him for?"

"No! He can't be gone already!" Serena wailed, clutching the cloak tightly around her waist. "I have to warn him. He's in danger!"

The prince frowned, his disinterest turning to concern. "Danger? What do you mean? Do you know where he's going?"

"Yes, but it's a long story! Please, I have to go find him."

"There's no way. He left over an hour ago, and in a bit of a hurry I'm told. He'll be miles away by now. Even with the fastest horse, we couldn't catch him until the evening, and that's assuming he'll stop to camp for the night. By the way, where _is_ he going?"

"Up to where you were hunting. Or around there."

"All the way up there? But that's nearly to Obelia. Why is he going back there?"

Serena sighed, her shoulders drooping. "Oh, it's all my fault," she muttered. "If I hadn't suggested . . . . If I'd thought it through . . . . But I'd completely forgotten!"

Endymion gave her another strange look and then glared, his eyes burrowing holes into her. "You say my brother has gone north and is in danger. Explain. What did he tell you and how do you know he's in trouble? What _kind_ of trouble is he in? And who are you to know these things?"

She looked up, startled, from her trance. The tone carried on Endymion's voice was one she had heard before—rarely, but identically—in that of Darien Shields. It was a voice demanding answers, refusing to be reasoned with until his concern and curiosity were thoroughly sedated. She took a cautious step backward, unsure of how much she could, or should, tell him. Her mind still rang with Zoicite's scream and the horrifically loud breaking of thorn branches.

But Serena was rescued from Endymion's penetrating stare by another deep voice.

"She is a guest in this castle and she knows these things because she watches and listens: a pastime it might not hurt for you to try once in awhile, _Your Majesty._" Serena looked over her shoulder to see Seiya approaching in long but slow strides. His black hair, freed from its ponytail, fell in waves around his shoulders. His scowl, though still intense and foreboding, seemed to now carry the slightest hint of amusement—though it vanished when the light from the windows hit his face.

"Seiya," Endymion admonished with a curt nod, ignoring the insult. "Why are you up so early?"

Cocking his head to one side, Seiya replied, "Why are you?"

In the sudden presence of Seiya's sinister expression, the thought struck Serena that there were three residents of the castle that could perhaps help her to protect Zoicite: the three guardians.

"Seiya!" she said, interrupting the trite exchange between him and the prince. "I'm so glad you're here! Zoicite—"

"—is fine."

She paused. "No, but—"

"Prince Zoicite is fine, Lady Serena. He is precisely _where_ he is supposed to be, doing precisely _what_ he is supposed to be doing."

"No, you don't see. In the story . . ."

"Yes, Lady Serena, let us not forget the story. And all ingredients thereof." He turned his dark eyes on her, a heavy and wise look. She hesitated, glancing at the tattooed teardrop beneath his left eye.

"Tragedy," she whispered.

"Indeed."

"Pardon me," Endymion interrupted with all the coolness of a volcano that has waited centuries to erupt. "But this is my brother we're talking about and if something is endangering him, I think I have the right to know."

"You have the right to nothing but fancy meals and a large dowry," Seiya drawled, slipping one hand into a pocket. "But if you must know, Serena was suffering from a bit of a nightmare. I assure you Prince Zoicite will be fine."

Endymion, unconvinced, turned to Serena. "Is this true?"

But rather than answer him, Serena turned fully to Seiya. "Look, I don't know what I'm doing. Are you sure this is how things are supposed to happen? How do we know I haven't made a mistake?"

For a brief moment, it looked as though Seiya would smile down on her, but his lips only twitched. Twice. Brushing past the girl, he continued down the hall in his measured paces. "We have faith."

After Seiya had turned the corner and his footsteps were no longer heard, Serena faced Endymion's skeptical glare. She gulped, uncomfortably folding her arms over her chest, and slowly answered his question. "It's true, I did have a nightmare," she mumbled. "And I'm sure… I'm sure Zoicite is fine."

The prince stood doubtful, but his glare softened.

"Then why do you appear so worried?"

"It was a very bad dream." Holding tightly to the front of her cloak, Serena tried a curtsy. "I'm sorry to have worried you. If you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to go back to bed."

"Lady Serena, if it pleases you," Endymion said sternly, but not angrily, stopping her mid-turn, "I had actually hoped I might have the chance to talk to you for a bit. Would it be too bold if I asked you to accompany me for breakfast?"

Serena hesitated, her eyes searching the prince's, almost Darien's. For the first time she noticed that he was already dressed and shaven and showed no signs of exhaustion on his face. Darien, too, had always seemed most awake and invigorated during their morning classes. "Okay, since I'm already awake."

She silently followed him down the hall, watching the floor glow pink in the sun's first streams of light. The dining hall was empty save a few servants setting out empty plates and shining silverware. The looks on their faces made it seem as though they'd been awake for hours, and a cute round woman greeted Endymion and Serena with a cheery smile.

"Good morning! We have some sausage links on the fire already. Pancakes, Prince Endymion? Anything special you would like, darling?" she asked, folding a few napkins for the elaborate place settings.

Endymion grunted his approval and pulled a chair out from the table for Serena. She sat down nervously and folded her hands in her lap as the prince claimed his own seat across from her.

"Captain Crunch?" Serena asked. The woman looked at her blankly, before raising a curious eyebrow at Endymion. He shrugged.

Sighing, Serena said, "Never mind. Pancakes would be wonderful."

The woman smiled again. "In a moment."

She scurried away, the tails of her apron swaying behind her.

"Pancakes are your favorite for breakfast?" Serena asked when they were alone again.

Endymion nodded, his blue eyes watching her closely. "There's nothing better."

"Darien always got pancakes in the cafeteria when they had them, too."

"Who?"

Serena shook her head. "No one."

"The boy I remind you of?" he pressed. "The boy you mistook me for yesterday?"

Blushing, Serena couldn't help but remember the embarrassing moments of the previous evening. "Yes, him."

"His name is Darien?"

She nodded.

"And where is he now?"

"Oh, probably at home. In fact, he's probably sitting in his dining room, eating pancakes."

The prince smiled lopsidedly as the maid returned carrying two platters full of pancakes and sausage. "Anything else, darlings?"

"No, thank you."

She skittered back toward the kitchen as Endymion began to drench his breakfast in syrup. A dish between them was full of thick, creamy peanut butter and he scooped some of that as well onto his pancakes, before devouring them in large bites. Watching him, Serena's stomach flipped, and she forced herself to look away and focus on her own food.

"Yes, eating pancakes with maple syrup and peanut butter."

Endymion paused for a moment, but continued eating without looking up at her. "And where is home?"

"In a land far, far away."

Endymion's eyes flickered toward her, a hint of a smile on his face. "Malachite told me about the dwarf man, the one who tried to take my niece, and how you stopped him. How did you know his name?"

"Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Maybe," he said mysteriously through a mouth full of sausage.

"A lucky guess, perhaps."

Endymion chuckled, washing the meat down with a few gulps of pulpy orange juice. "One doesn't pull a name like _Rumpelstiltskin_ out of thin air. Really, how did you know?"

Serena thought back to the story, in which a servant had overheard Rumpelstiltskin proclaim his name in a song. "I heard him singing it. I was taking a walk the night before and heard him singing about tricking the princess and keeping her firstborn child if she couldn't guess his name. It was luck that I was happening by at that moment."

Endymion analyzed her silently for a moment and she wondered if he could see right through her lies—she'd often been told that she was a horrid liar. If he did, though, he said nothing and poured himself another glass of juice. Serena finished her first pancake and drizzled syrup onto the second one.

"Now I have a question for you, if you don't mind."

He tilted his head, signaling her to continue.

"I heard you're getting married in a week. Is that true?"

He returned his gaze to his breakfast. "It is true that I am betrothed and that the scheduled wedding date is in one week. Whether or not I actually do get married in a week, well, you'll have to ask me again in eight days."

Serena furrowed her brow. "And just why wouldn't you?"

"It's complicated. A foreigner may not understand, and I wouldn't want to bore you with the politics of our kingdom on your first visit."

"How do you know I'm a foreigner?"

"Well, you wouldn't be staying in the castle if you had a home right outside its walls, now would you?"

"Sure I would. I get pampered and treated so nicely here."

Endymion grinned. "Plus your accent is like none I've ever heard before. Your home must be far, far away indeed."

Frowning, Serena shoveled a few forkfuls into her mouth. Though she'd noticed the very regal way of speaking that many of the kingdom's residents had, she hadn't realized how different she might sound to someone born and raised there. "I'm still curious as to why you may not marry this girl."

His grin quickly fading, Endymion began to draw designs in the leftover syrup on his plate with the edge of his fork. "It's possible that the princess will be unconscious during our wedding ceremony."

"Unconscious?" she said with a barking laugh, but her amusement quickly faded at Endymion's overly serious expression.

"Yes. I told you, it's complicated."

"Well, then, start from the beginning. Who is she?"

He sighed, looking suddenly bored with the conversation, but answered anyway, "Briar Rose, the only princess of Obelia."

"The kingdom to the north?"

He nodded.

"You don't seem very enthralled by her."

"It isn't my place nor duty to be enthralled by her."

"But you're going to marry her." Serena paused, frowning. "Don't you like her?"

"I only met her once, years ago. I was so young I barely remember, and she was only a baby."

"And you don't think you'll like her?"

Endymion rolled his eyes. "She's a princess. They're all the same. Pretty, polite, and cursed."

"Cursed?"

Endymion pushed his plate away, his fork clattering on the ceramic. "You really must be a foreigner if you don't know about the curse of Briar Rose."

"What kind of a curse?" Serena asked, though she was already sure she knew exactly what kind of curse it would be.

Clearing his throat, Endymion proclaimed in a deeply serious, reverberating tone, "During her fifteenth year, the princess will prick her finger on a spinning wheel and fall into a deep sleep, only to be awakened by the virgin kiss of her true love." Dropping the prophetic voice, Endymion shook his head. "Dramatic, right? Placed on her at birth by Queen Beryl of the land of Cashlin. Well, except the sleeping part; that was added in later. Anyhow, she only has six days left of her fifteenth year and the curse has yet to be fulfilled, so you can see how she might possibly sleep through her own wedding, which probably won't bode well for the honeymoon. Are you all right?"

Serena nodded vigorously, realizing that she had been mindlessly mashing her pancakes to bits with her fork. "But of course she won't still be asleep. True love's kiss will awaken her."

It took a long moment of silence, Endymion's eyes staring expressionlessly into hers, before the tiniest smile tilted the corners of his lips. "Yes," he acknowledged, "of course."

"Lady Serena," buzzed Hota, a blur of gold and crimson floating into the room. The Guardian of Drama perched on the edge of the table, eyeing the mess of dishes distastefully. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but your services are requested beyond the south entrance. There's been a . . . disturbance." With a huge red-lipped grin, she bowed to Prince Endymion. "I hope you won't mind if I take her away for the afternoon?"

Looking at the fairy speculatively, Endymion shrugged his shoulders. "Certainly not. She seems to be quite the popular new guest. I hope you all aren't suffocating her."

"Goodness, no," Hota chirped. "She's far too pretty to turn blue. Come along, then, Serena. Good day, Your Highness."

Serena stood as Hota fluttered out toward the hallway, Endymion also rising with a shallow bow.

"Thank you for keeping me company, Lady Serena."

"Please, contrary to popular belief, I'm hardly a lady," Serena said.

"I understand. The princely title never suited me, either."

Serena grinned and curtsied. "Good day, then."

Endymion returned the smile, but his eyes never stopped analyzing her expressions and movements as she left the room. With a long, deep intake of breath, he fell back into his chair and ran a hand through his thick black hair.

"Your services are requested beyond the south entrance?" he mimicked curiously. "Who are you, really, Serena from far, far away?"

* * *

**Please review.**


	9. Little Red Riding Hood

**Hm. No comments this time around, other than thanks to Phantasy Star for editing and everyone who takes time to review. I _love_ hearing your thoughts on where the story is going. Please keep them coming!**

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade

**Chapter 9: Little Red Riding Hood  
**_Just as Little Red Cap entered the wood, a wolf met her. Red Cap did  
not know what a wicked creature he was, and was not at all afraid of him._  
From Little Red Cap

Serena followed Hota through the marble hallway toward the castle's south entrance. Through the huge wall of glass she could see the red-tiled roofs of the city and, beyond those, the golden wheat fields stretching to the horizon. Her mind rolled over her conversation with Endymion. Prince Endymion.

Prince Endymion who was betrothed to Briar Rose. Or the princess more commonly referred to as Sleeping Beauty.

But even as an awkward wave of jealousy tried to creep into her thoughts, Serena forced herself to squash it down. What did she have to be jealous of? Okay, so she had a little bit of a crush on Darien Shields, but that was perfectly normal. _Every_ girl at Crossroads High had a crush on Darien Shields. What was there not to like? Between his painful good looks and effortless wit and intelligence and how he was always polite to everyone (even Melvin), he could very well have been the last perfect boy in the world. And besides that, Darien, despite his intense desirability, flirtatious persona, and the abundance of girls prostrating themselves before him daily, had never really dated. Serena knew—she'd paid attention, and any information that was lost on her would certainly be picked up by Detective Melvin. Sure, Darien would take a girl to a dance from time to time, and once he'd gone for sundaes with Cheryl Kingstone. But, while Serena had fumed at the idea and, yes, cried when the anger wore off, to her knowledge the date had never been repeated.

But the fact that this prince looked and talked and acted and ate like Darien, didn't make him Darien. And just because he was betrothed to someone else didn't justify this spark of envy Serena was busy smothering. If anything, she knew that she should be happy for him. After all, the tale of Sleeping Beauty had always been one of her favorites, so it was only fitting that Prince Endymion should play the living role, right? And it would be wonderful to see him live happily ever after, she tried to tell herself.

But then there was something lurking even beneath the jealousy. Something that felt awkward and irregular. Something about the inflection of Endymion's voice when he had talked about his fiancé, or the look in his eyes when Serena had pressed for more information, or the way he slumped just a little bit when he'd mentioned his first impression of Princess Briar Rose.

Maybe it was simply the fact that there was a Darien Shields–clone in this world at all that was unsettling her. What would cause such a thing? Could her world and the fairy-tale world be somehow mirrored? If she searched hard enough, could she find a Melvin counterpart, or living replicas of her mother, her schoolmates, her teachers? Or was there a Mina and Malachite, or a Luna and Artemis, roaming the cities of her dimension—ignorant of their folktale twins?

It was too odd to comprehend and though Serena rolled the questions over and over in her head, she knew that she was no closer to finding any answers. The fact of the matter was that something just didn't feel right, and Serena hated not knowing what it was. She swore silently to find out.

"How did you enjoy your meal?" Hota asked, glancing back at Serena over her beating wings.

Pulled roughly from her thoughts, Serena shrugged. "Delicious."

"And the company?"

She lowered her gaze and uncomfortably shrugged again.

"I trust after talking with the youngest prince, you realize he has no relation to this 'Darien' of yours."

Serena didn't answer for a long time, finally responding, "Yes, I realize that he is not the Darien I know, but that doesn't change the fact that they are remarkably similar."

With a thoughtful hum, Hota came to perch on Serena's shoulder, resting her wings. "Lady Serena, I, of course, do not have Andrew's spectacular gift and knowledge in the department of romance, but even an old godmother like me can realize you are hiding something of your feelings. You were quite taken with this Darien from your world, weren't you?"

Serena felt the beginning of a blush and for once didn't try to hide or prevent it. The conflicting memories of Darien's teasing smile and Prince Endymion's speculative, untrusting gaze made her heart tumble. "Lots of girls are quite taken with Darien. But there's nothing… I mean, he doesn't even know I exist, other than as the girl who always asks to borrow a pencil."

"But of course, child."

Desiring to change the subject, Serena said solemnly, "I noticed that Prince Endymion didn't seem very excited to be marrying Princess Briar Rose. In fact, he seemed almost… repulsed by the idea of marrying her. Well, okay, repulsed might be a little strong, but still, I'm worried. Are you sure they're in love?"

"Oh, dear, they've only met once. Such things take time."

Serena frowned. "Not in fairy tales, they don't."

The fairy laughed. "Don't tell me you're jealous already! I realize the prince is a charmer, but you've barely just met him!"

"No, I'm not jealous! I'm just . . . worried. I'm supposed to make sure all the stories work out all right, but it will be difficult for Endymion to save the princess from her curse if he isn't in love with her. I just thought it would do to make sure, that's all."

"Well, if he isn't yet, he will be by the time that needle pricks her. Andrew will be sure of that. He's quite good at what he does."

"And he has me to help him."

"You don't think your feelings will get in the way?"

Serena glared at the pixie's smug grin. "What feelings? You said yourself, I just met him. _He_ isn't the Darien I—" Pausing, she sighed and rolled her eyes. "My point is, if he is to have his sleeping beauty, then he will have her and live happily ever after. I will see to that!" Turning a corner, Serena's determination suddenly waned at a new thought. "By the way, what exactly is this disturbance you need me for?"

* * *

"Over the hill, and through the woods, to Grandmother's house we go," Hota sang, flying effortlessly along the tiny forest trail that Serena had trouble discerning _was_ even a trail, so overgrown was it with brush and thorns and twigs that stuck in her hair.

"Hota, couldn't you have warned me we were going to be trekking through the forest? I would have liked to have changed, at least. Ugh, these slippers are ruined."

Smiling innocently, the fairy paused on a branch and turned back to Serena. "There wasn't time for that, Chosen One."

"Fine, but you couldn't have let me grab a cloak or something?"

"Hush, I think I hear her."

"Hear who?" Serena snapped.

Hota didn't answer and Serena was forced to hold her irritation in check and listen for herself. A moment later her ears picked up a gentle humming from deeper within the forest. Before she could repeat her question, the guardian had flown off toward the sound, leaving Serena to stumble through the brush by herself.

Finally, her legs bleeding and the skirt of her nightgown ripped to shreds, Serena came upon a recognizable path. With a long, deep breath, she crouched miserably against a tree and tried to pick stray leaves out of her hair while the humming grew louder. A moment later, a small, round-faced girl with bouncing red curls and big blue eyes came around the path's bend wearing a red hooded cloak and carrying a basket full to the brim with wildflowers.

Serena stood up, watching as the girl walked along, apparently lost in her daydreams. Hota could be seen perched secretly on a branch off to Serena's side.

Suddenly, the girl noticed Serena standing there in all her torn, shredded, and bloody glory, and smiled the biggest, friendliest smile Serena could imagine.

"Good morning!" the girl chirped. "My name is Chibi Chibi, but everybody calls me Little Red Riding Hood because of this cloak that my grandmother made for me that I never take off—well, except when I go to bed, because it would be silly to sleep in a cloak, don't you think? I'm off to visit her now—my grandmother, that is—because she's ill and I have bread and wine to make her better. But the flowers in these woods are so lovely that I simply had to stop and pick some and now I'm afraid I might be late. But I don't think Grandmother will mind, especially once she sees all the daisies and violets and these little red flowers that I don't know the name of. How could anyone be upset when they see such beautiful things? How is your morning so far?"

Serena gawked at the girl, and suddenly the whole story of Little Red Riding Hood made so much more sense. This girl was so trusting and innocent it was sickening—no wonder the wolf had had no trouble gobbling her up.

"It's… swell."

Chibi Chibi's eyes fluttered happily. "That's wonderful! Why are you in your nightgown? Are you a sleepwalker? My papa used to sleepwalk all the time. Some mornings we would wake up—my mom and me—and Papa wouldn't be there so we would go looking for him and find him asleep in the barn with his shoes on the wrong feet and a jacket on backwards, and he never knew just how he'd gotten there. Strange, isn't it? But you certainly look like you could use a cloak. Perhaps if my grandmother has extra material, she'll make you a red one, like mine, and then we could pretend that we were sisters! Would you like to be sisters?"

Serena grimaced and answered with as little sarcasm as she could, "Well, it might be nice to have a little sister. Say, it's kind of dangerous in these woods. Why don't I walk you the rest of the way to your grandmother's house? You know, big sisters are supposed to be protective."

"Oh, that would be lovely! I'll tell you all about my mother and our house and our garden and the little town where we sometimes go to buy cakes and fabric . . ."

Serena forced a smile and fell into step beside the girl, casting a glare back at Hota.

". . . and shoes from the cobbler who swears that he doesn't actually make the shoes but that a group of elves come into his shop in the middle of the night and make them for him. Isn't that funny? I think that if I were an elf, I wouldn't waste my nights making shoes. I think I would go dancing in the gardens and eating strawberries, but then, maybe elves really like making shoes, just as much as I like strawberries, though I couldn't imagine why. I guess I'll never know until I meet an elf. Have you ever met an elf? I think I would make him my best friend if I ever did meet one, but who's ever met an elf? No one I know. Oh! Except this one girl in my town who once said . . ."

By the time they reached Grandmother's house, a headache was pounding against Serena's skull and she was beginning to wonder if the girl ever breathed. Without hesitation, the girl knocked on the door of the tiny one-room cottage.

"Who is it?"

"It's me, Grandmother, Chibi Chibi, your Little Red Riding Hood. I've brought bread and wine and daisies and violets and little red flowers to make you feel better."

"Come in, my dear."

Chibi Chibi opened the door and they walked inside. The room had a woodstove in one corner, a small dresser, a cupboard for dishes, and a bed. Inside the bed lay an old woman wearing a white nightgown and a white, lacy bonnet. Her nose was long, her ears tall and pointed, and her face was covered with dark brown fur.

Serena stopped and raised an eyebrow at the cross-dressing wolf, then cast a speculative look at Hota who was watching the scene with mute curiosity, then down at the little girl. However, Chibi Chibi wasn't at her side anymore, but had already skipped toward the bed, basket in hand.

"Good morning, Grandmother! Are you hungry? Mother and I baked some delicious rosemary bread and I have a bottle of red wine which is supposed to be good for a person's red blood cell count and should help you get better in a jiffy! Oh, dear Grandmother, your illness has changed you. What big ears you have!"

"The better to hear you with, my dear."

"And what big eyes you have!"

"The better to see you with, my dear."

"And what a big nose you have!"

"The better to smell you with, my dear."

"And what a big mouth you have!"

"The better to eat—"

"Alright, hold it!" Serena said, stepping into the conversation with her arms open in exasperation. She turned to a startled Chibi Chibi. "Are you _blind?_ It's a wolf! He's a _wolf!_ He doesn't look anything _like_ your grandmother! At least, I really hope not. He's probably already eaten her and now he wants to eat you, too. I mean, cute and naïve and innocent: fine. But let's not be stupid about this."

Chibi Chibi stared up at her through her large, glowing eyes. "But she's wearing my grandmother's nightgown."

Serena cast her eyes toward the ceiling in what could have been a prayer for patience, then turned back to Hota who was watching the whole thing with mild amusement.

"Okay. I'm tired and cranky and my feet hurt and this is ridiculous. Can't we just let him eat her? I mean, really, is anybody going to care?"

A gasp made Serena look back at Chibi Chibi, who was shaking with fear-filled eyes looking over Serena's shoulder. Turning, Serena saw that the wolf had tossed aside the blankets and was standing on the bed, towering over them in his white frock and bonnet, his fangs glittering and his tongue dripping with drool.

Serena screamed and backed up, sheltering the little girl against the wall.

"The better to eat you with, my dears!" the wolf finished.

"Oh, I don't think so!" Serena said, grabbing the first weapon she could get—a broom—and proceeding to beat the wolf over the head with it as hard as she could.

The wolf cried out in pain and soon fell to the floor unconscious.

Heaving for breath, Serena dropped the broom and swiped her sleeve across her sweaty forehead. "Told you so."

"Oh, what has the big bad wolf done to my poor grandmother?"

"My first guess would be that he ate her." As the girl's eyes quickly filled with tears, Serena amended, "But maybe not! Uh… he could have hidden her in the shed. Why don't you go look in there?"

"There's a shed?"

"Yeah, she just had it installed last week. Now go!"

Nodding, the girl ran from the cottage. She could soon be heard calling for her grandmother over and over, occasionally intermingled with random tangents.

Serena looked at Hota. "Now what?"

The fairy shrugged back. "You tell me."

"Well, in the story, the wolf eats the girl and the grandmother, but then a huntsman shows up and cuts him open, setting them free. So…" She noticed a pair of sewing scissors on the dresser and slowly picked them up with shaking hands. "Er…" Approaching the wolf, she pushed her toe into his side to make sure he wasn't awake. "Um… Here, you do it!" she said, thrusting the scissors toward the fairy.

Hota scoffed. "How, exactly, do you want me to do that? The scissors are bigger than I am."

Scrunching her face up in distaste, Serena nodded and slowly lowered the scissors toward the wolf's belly. "I can't believe I'm doing this," she muttered. "I better get a raise."

"We're not paying you."

"You should be."

"Oh, come now. Isn't this all very exciting?"

"Maybe to a med-student."

"I found her!" Serena stopped, the point of the scissors pressing gently into the wolf's gut, and looked toward the door. There stood Chibi Chibi holding the hand of an old woman. "She was in the shed, just like you said!"

Blinking, Serena dropped the scissors and stood up. She opened her mouth as if to protest the impossibility and confess that she'd made up the whole thing about a shed in the first place, but decided against it.

"Oh. That's nice." She looked at Hota, who seemed to be just as surprised as she was. "Well then, I'm done here, and I'm going home. I guess we'll, um… send someone to collect the body." But on her way out, she stopped and kneeled before Chibi Chibi, taking her by the shoulders. "What have you learned today, Chibi Chibi?"

"Um…" Chibi Chibi looked up in deep thought for a moment, before a smile spread across her face, "Don't stray from the path to pick wildflowers or your grandmother might get eaten?"

Serena hesitated, before patting the girl on the head. "Close enough."

* * *

"What happened to you?"

Serena froze in the castle hallway that she'd thought was empty and turned to see Prince Endymion leaning against a wall and eyeing her with combined concern and amusement.

She looked down at herself—the beautiful white nightgown silt-covered and full of holes, the slippers that were hopelessly ruined now dangling from a hand while her feet were covered in mud and scratches. She took a moment to pull a twig from her long, un-brushed hair, before smiling sardonically at the prince.

"Why, whatever do you mean?" Rolling her eyes, she turned and started marching back toward her room.

"Hey, wait! You're getting blood on the carpet."

"Gee, I'm so dreadfully sor-ryyy!" Serena screeched as she was suddenly lifted into the air. She instinctively dropped the slippers and wrapped her arms around Endymion's neck as he carried her down the hallway. His expression was perfectly neutral, but Serena recognized a proud, taunting glint in his blue eyes. "What are you doing?"

"Saving the poor maids from the back-breaking effort it would take to wash that blood from the carpet."

Serena tried to protest, but could think of nothing to say. Grumbling, she pulled her arms back and folded them angrily over her chest. "You could have just brought me a pair of shoes."

Endymion laughed. "Ah, but this is much more enjoyable." Delighting at the blush creeping into the girl's cheeks, he continued, "So last I saw you, you were being ushered away by Aysel's favorite flying resident because your 'services were needed.' Now, that was nearly eight hours ago, and if I recall correctly, you were dressed in your nightgown then, too, but . . . I think it was still in one piece."

"Your powers of observation astound me," she said sarcastically, her crabbiness making it easy to cover up her fluttering nerves and heartbeats with humorless retorts.

As they passed a servant busy cleaning draperies, Endymion instructed them, "Have a bath drawn in Lady Serena's quarters, with plenty of healing salts, and bring arnica and calendula ointment."

The servant bowed and scurried away.

"Do people always do exactly what you tell them to?"

Endymion quirked an eyebrow. "Of course. You haven't known many princes, have you?"

"No, and I think I'll be happy to never meet another one after this."

Endymion laughed and Serena could feel the resonation in her chest. Almost against her will, she let her head collapse onto his shoulder, the exhaustion from trumping through the woods catching up with her now that she found herself in a safe, warm place. Her mouth ran suddenly dry as she thought with mild irony that one of her most constant fantasies was coming true—Darien Shields was holding her. Like a bride. Or a princess.

She bit her tongue to keep from giggling, her irritation quickly dissolving.

"So, really," Endymion continued, his voice now soft and gentle, "what happened? You know, I can order to have Hota's head chopped off if she's mistreating you."

Serena's smile widened and she raised her drowsy eyes up to meet his. "You'd do that for me?"

"Oh, sure. Anything for our honored guest," he said with a wink.

After pretending to consider the idea, Serena nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."

"While you're thinking about it, why don't you tell me what happened today? You look like you've been hiking through the Haunted Woods."

Her eyes widened. "There are haunted woods?"

He laughed. "Well, that's what people say, but no one's gone in there for many years, so who knows? Now, if Hota really dragged you in there, I'd have her beheaded for sure. It's supposedly suicide."

"Ah, well, no. No haunted woods—yet. Just your normal homicidal, hungry wolf and ignorant damsel in distress. You know, the usual afternoon activities."

Endymion frowned, but Serena waved her hand airily as they reached her room. "Never mind. I really don't want to talk about it. Thanks for the lift."

"Any time." He set her down on the bed and she expected him to leave, but instead he pulled over a stool and began rolling up his sleeves.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking," he mumbled, holding up her foot and analyzing one heel and ankle and calf, before setting it down on the bed and picking up the other one.

Serena scowled, trying to ignore the flustered feelings in her stomach. "You just want an excuse to check out my legs."

His lips quirked and his eyes flickered to hers for a moment before returning to their examination. "How'd you know?" he asked teasingly, before his voice became gentle again. "It doesn't look too serious. I think you'll survive, but you really should get these cuts cleaned up before they get infected."

"Gee, a prince _and_ a doctor? No wonder you're such a heartbreaker."

Grinning crookedly, he asked, "You think I'm a heartbreaker?"

"It was a joke."

A gentle knock at the open door signaled the appearance of the servant who had been washing draperies, carrying a tray with the herbs Endymion had requested, a stack of bandages, and a pitcher of juice. The prince thanked her and took the juice, pouring some into a clean glass while the servant set about drawing a bath in the adjoining room.

"I can do that, you know. You're acting like I have a broken leg."

"Would you like me to check if you do?" he joked, reaching for her calves again, but she quickly stuck her foot on his chest and pushed him away. "No, thanks, I think I can handle it from here. Honestly, I just want to take a bath and go to bed."

"Well, I can help with either of those, too."

Her face turned beet red and Serena wasn't sure if she was supposed to be angry or flattered by the comment, but Endymion's abrupt laughter saved her the trouble of deciding. "I was only kidding. Don't have a fit."

"Who's having a fit?" she spat, willing the blood away from her cheeks.

"Come on, you look like an overgrown tomato right now." Still chuckling, he stood up and began rolling down his sleeves. "You know, it's okay to have a crush on me. Lots of girls do. I am a prince, after all."

"And you have the big head to prove it. For your information, I don't waste my time chasing after untouchable men."

"Untouchable?"

"You're engaged, remember?"

For a moment, Endymion looked startled, as if he actually had forgotten, then he rolled his eyes. "Oh, that," he murmured. "So I want you to make sure to get all the dried blood washed off. Use soap and water. And then you should rub some of this arnica and calendular oil onto the scratches, but I wouldn't put a bandage around them unless they start bleeding again. They need to be able to breathe."

Serena nodded, a little taken aback at how quickly his personality could change and how adamantly he avoided the topic of his betrothal, especially as the wedding date was less than two weeks away.

"Sure. Thanks," she said, grateful when the maid came out and informed them that the bath was ready.

Endymion nodded and thanked the girl again, who bowed deeply before leaving the room.

"Want me to carry you to the bath?"

"No, I think I can handle it."

The prince looked slightly disappointed, but Serena was sure he was only pretending. With a nod, he headed for the door, turning once to flash her a genuine smile. "Anything else I can do for Mi'lady?"

She went to shake her head, but then stopped. "Could you maybe have some food sent up?"

"It would be my pleasure. Now, no more traipsing through the woods, okay?"

"Tell that to the guardians."

"I will," he said assuredly, shutting the door behind him.

She sighed after him and began unbuttoning her nightgown. The prince was something else, that was for sure. A little incorrigible, a little charming, a little arrogant, and a little sweet.

And completely, tragically untouchable.

**

* * *

****Please review.**


	10. Bluebeard

**Who asked if Bluebeard was going to be in this story? Why, you little mind readers, you. **

Happy Valentine's Day! My sincerest apologies for the lack of romance in this chapter. I hope it's enjoyable just the same.

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 10: Bluebeard  
_The floor was covered with blood, on which lay the bodies of several dead women.  
These were all the wives whom Bluebeard had married and murdered._  
from Bluebeard

Cheerful birds were chirping outside Serena's window when she woke up late the next morning. With a yawn, she stretched her arms languidly above her head and pushed her heels out beneath the warm covers, before relaxing into the feather down mattress with a contented smile on her lips.

"Now this is the life," she purred, her golden hair splayed out on the pillow. "No hungry wolfs, no stupid princes, no guardians, and no responsibilities."

A gentle knock at her door hardly startled Serena. Pulling the covers up to her neck, she called, "Come in," expecting to see a maid with a tray full of breakfast food.

A maid did enter, but she was carrying nothing. Her hands had gathered her apron nervously in front of her waist. "Your escort has asked to see you, Mi'lady."

Serena curiously propped herself up on her elbows. "My escort?"

The girl nodded, her cheeks flushed red. "Master Seiya, Mi'lady."

"Oh, my escort from the _ball._" Serena scrunched up her face. "What does he want?"

"He did not say, Mi'lady."

"Fine. Send him in."

The girl curtsied and rushed out the door. A moment later, Seiya, the Guardian of Tragedy, strolled into the room, his cool gaze settling on Serena.

"Yes?" she asked when he didn't immediately state the reason of his visit.

"Get up. There is work to be done."

Serena glowered at Seiya's complete lack of manners.

"Work? Oh, no, I am taking the day off. Did Hota tell you what she made me do yesterday? We had to go through the woods to save the dumbest little girl you ever met from this _very_ hungry wolf and…"

Pointedly ignoring her, Seiya turned back toward the door. "We're going into town, not the woods, and you are not taking the day off. Be at the western gate in ten minutes."

After he had gone, shutting the door behind him, Serena flopped onto the pillows with a groan. "And just why should I?" she spat. "You could at least say please or give me some indication of what you need, but to just come in here and order me around is incredibly rude and I won't put up with this behavior. I deserve to be treated with respect, especially from a person who understands my importance in this kingdom." She frowned, staring up at the ceiling. "Yeah, that's what I should have said." With a sigh, she pushed the covers off and began wondering what to wear. There was no way she was going out in her pajamas two days in a row.

* * *

Twelve minutes later, Serena trotted out of the castle in satin slippers with kitten heels, a long cotton eyelet skirt and a linen blouse with lace sleeves. She smiled at Seiya, whose eyes swept over her, unimpressed.

"You're late."

Her smile fell. "Well maybe next time you should consider giving me a bit more time. You know, girls in my world take at _least_ an hour to get ready to go out on the town."

He looked too exasperated to reply and gestured for her to get into a carriage that was already hooked up to its horses with the driver holding the reigns. Pursing her lips in agitation, Serena climbed in and sat down, waiting for Seiya to enter behind her.

"You know, you could at least try to be a little friendlier. A compliment wouldn't kill you, you know."

"At least you didn't wear silk."

"That's not a compliment!"

He shrugged, his gaze watching the houses go by as the carriage started moving down the bumpy road.

"Just because you're the Guardian of Tragedy doesn't mean you have to act so damn tragic all the time," Serena muttered, eyeing the tear tattoo on his cheek. His expression remained so passive that she wondered if maybe he just had very selective hearing. "And have you ever considered carrying on a conversation? Come on, say something. Tell me about yourself."

His gray eyes flickered to hers. "No."

Serena blinked at him a moment, before throwing her arms up in surrender. "Fine! God forbid anyone try to be friends with you."

"I wasn't meant to make friends."

"Well it doesn't have to be your life's purpose, but it could be an added bonus, you know."

His eyes darkened and the straight line of his lips softened the slightest bit. "Lady Serena, you do not understand."

"What don't I understand?"

He sighed, almost whimsically, and leaned back. His charcoal gray eyes fixed on the sky outside that, Serena noticed, was the same color that day. "We guardians have a strange effect on the world around us. Our trades follow us everywhere we go and impact everything we do and every person we meet."

"What do you mean?"

"Strange and exciting things tend to happen when Hota is nearby, simply because of her presence. Strangers in Andrew's vicinity are more likely to experience love at first sight."

Serena leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and furrowing her brow in concern. "So for you…"

He nodded. "Tragedy follows wherever I go. It does not change everything—good can happen as well, and in this world even the worst of times can be turned to good with the wave of a magic wand. Plus, the three guardians when together tend to neutralize the effects. But," he paused and Serena found herself hanging on the tones of his mysterious, smoky voice, "the more contact I have with a person, the more tragedy will befall them. I cannot escape it."

"And that's why you don't make friends. You're protecting people."

His lips twitched. "No. That is why people don't make friends with me." Turning back to the small window, he nodded. "We're here."

A moment later, the horses came to a stop and Seiya alighted from the carriage. Serena followed him and found herself on the outside walkway to a large white house with enormous ivy-covered pillars.

"Where are we?"

"The home of a very successful carpet merchant."

Serena dawdled behind Seiya as he walked across the lawn toward the front door, then stopped with his hands in his pockets, watching her from the corner of his eye. Serena gazed up at the double doors, painted a deep blue, before returning Seiya's stare.

"What now?" she asked.

He raised his eyebrows and turned silently back to the entrance. Serena, realizing that he had said more during their short ride in the carriage than she'd heard him speak in the entire time she'd known him, figured his vocabulary was probably exhausted. His secretive, aloof nature had returned.

Frowning, she placed her fists on her hips and tapped her foot against the brick terrace. "What, am I just supposed to knock? I don't have the first idea of why we're here, Seiya. What would I say? 'Hi, we were just out for a stroll and thought we'd stop by to see if you're in the middle of a confused fairy tale'? Why don't you tell me why you brought me here and then—"

A terrified scream interrupted Serena's rant and she turned back to the door with her heart jumping up into her throat. Seiya only tilted his head, unsurprised, and tossed his black ponytail over one shoulder.

Serena looked back at Seiya for support that she didn't find there, then shook her head agitatedly. "Here I go trespassing again," she mumbled and, with a deep breath, swung open the door.

A tall, elaborate staircase stretched up in front of them and Serena wasted no time in rushing up it—the scream seemed to have come from the second story. Seiya followed behind, casually but quickly with his long stride. The upstairs was filled with artwork, fine carpets, and closed doorways. Serena looked down each of the two opposing hallways, searching for a sign of life, but seeing nothing. Just as she chose a direction and began heading down that hallway, the distinct sound of heavy breathing from behind made her pause. She turned and listened for a moment, risking a glance at Seiya who looked bored and disinterested, before rushing toward the sound.

She rounded a corner in time to see a girl back fearfully out of a room and collide with the wall behind her, sending a small painting tumbling from its hook. The girl hardly seemed to notice. She had short, wavy red hair and was ghastly pale. Her entire body was shaking and her green eyes were wide and unblinking as they stared into the room she was cowering away from.

Serena cleared her throat. "Miss?"

The girl shrieked and jumped away, her eyes darting to Serena and Seiya as a hand clamped over her mouth.

"We aren't going to hurt you," Serena cooed, holding her hands up in a gesture of peace. "What's happened? Are you hurt?"

The girl's eyes suddenly filled up with tears and she collapsed to the ground, sobbing. Nervously, Serena approached her and began to reach out to lay a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she froze when her eyes chanced to look into the open doorway on the other side of the hall. Screaming, she too took a startled step back, then held a hand to her mouth as she felt herself gagging.

The room, reeking of blood and death, was strewn with the bodies of young women, some much further along in decay than the others. Their stale blood had drowned the carpet and been splattered carelessly over the walls and curtains.

Turning away with a shudder, Serena desperately tried to rid her mind of the horrifying image, but it had already imprinted itself into her brain.

"His wives," the girl mumbled in a wavering, choked voice. "They are his past wives."

"Whose?" Serena managed, staring into the girl's glossy eyes.

"My husband's," she whispered.

At the sound of footsteps, Serena spun around, only to see Seiya approaching the room and peering inside. While his expression remained unfazed, his eyelashes did lower briefly, as if in respect for the dead. Then, his gray eyes darkening, he reached forward and pulled the door shut. It left a silence in the hallway, and some of the ominous fear that had been hanging around the girls' hearts vanished, as if the horrible room itself had ceased to exist behind that closed door.

But then the moment passed and the girl gasped and flung herself at the door handle. "No, the key! I dropped the key! If I don't have it he'll know that I . . . . Oh, he'll kill me, too!" She wailed and, seeing that Seiya wasn't about to reopen the door, collapsed against his chest, shuddering and sobbing. He slowly put an arm over her shoulder and looked up to Serena, who was desperately trying to keep her own emotions under control. She couldn't help wondering if it was safe for the girl to be so close to Seiya—_Tragedy follows wherever I go_—and she quickly looked away, guilty for the thought.

"Okay, calm down," she whispered, rubbing her palms harshly over her eyes. After a few deep breaths, she returned Seiya's stare. "Bluebeard."

The girl ceased shaking, but remained pressed up against Seiya, her fists grabbing up great folds of his tunic.

"Your husband is Bluebeard."

Slowly, she nodded.

"You brought me into the story of Bluebeard," she continued disbelievingly to herself, remembering how the tale had plagued her with nightmares as a child.

It was then that they heard the front door being swung open and heavy footsteps on the foyer downstairs. "Molly?" came a gruff voice and the girl weakened and swayed, but thankfully did not faint even as she pried herself away from Seiya.

"It's him," she breathed. "Oh, dear Perrault, he isn't supposed to be home until tomorrow."

Serena's eyes widened at the reference to another fairy tale writer from her world, Charles Perrault, and thought for sure she'd heard wrong. But before she could question her, Bluebeard's rumbling voice carried up the stairwell again.

"Molly?" he repeated and they heard his boots clomping along one of the downstairs hallways in search of his wife.

As quickly as Molly had launched herself into Seiya, she pulled away and held him at arm's length. "You can protect me, can't you? Won't you? You…" Her gaze traveled down and her hopeful expression fell. "You don't have a sword." But the worry and hopelessness changed just as drastically as before and she swung around to face Serena. "But my brothers! They're supposed to be coming to visit me this afternoon. Please, Lady, go to the third floor and look out the East window and if you see two men on horseback, motion for them to come as quickly as they can!" She inhaled a shaky breath. "I'll go try to distract my husband for as long as I can. Oh, please let them hurry…"

Deathly pale and trembling, Molly began walking feebly down the hallway toward the main staircase, but Serena stopped her by reaching forward and grabbing onto her wrist.

"Now, wait just a minute!" she said, anger and pride welling up and diminishing the fear and confusion of moments ago. "Now, this is exactly what always ticked me off about this story. Why on earth would you send me, an ally, to go summon your brothers while you beg Bluebeard for mercy and say your prayers, blah blah blah? Why does it have to be the brothers who do all the rescuing? You're a young, able-bodied woman, and I am too! And we do have Seiya here, even if he doesn't have a sword. Together, with our intelligence and cunning and combined strength, we can get you out of this mess. It's the stupidest thing I've ever heard to expect me to go up and wait for your brothers, just because they're men. Where is your sense of pride? You know, 'I am woman, hear me roar,' and all that good stuff?"

Molly watched her with astonishment, her green eyes filled with uncertainty, as if she was trying to decide if Serena had some sort of mental illness.

"But… we're ladies! You can't expect us to… to fight!"

"And why not? I'm not asking you to chop his head off or anything, but I'm not going to let you waltz down there to your death sentence like some wilted flower!"

Molly looked about to protest, but she paused and glanced over her shoulder at Seiya, who was now leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, watching them with an awkward amusement in his charcoal stare. She turned back to Serena. "But what can we do?" she whispered, her eyes filling once more with helpless tears, and though they were close to the same height, Serena saw her suddenly as being very small and frail. She tried to smile comfortingly.

"We'll figure something out. But we have to remain calm and strong."

Molly nodded enthusiastically, her red curls bouncing, but then a thunderous footstep on the stairs startled her and she had to bite her tongue to keep from yelling.

"Molly! Where are you?" came Bluebeard's thundering call.

"Quick, in here," Serena said, grabbing Molly's hand and pulling her into a room just down the hallway. Seiya followed them inside and closed the door soundlessly behind them. Soon, they heard Bluebeard reach their floor, but Serena breathed a sigh of relief to hear him moving toward the opposite wing of the house. "Okay," she whispered when she could no longer hear him, "here's my plan."

* * *

Less than a minute later, Bluebeard came storming down the hall, his face red with anger beneath the blue beard. A day early or not, it was his wife's duty to have a warm meal waiting on the table and to greet him with a smile and clean dressing robe. For him to have to go searching the entire house for her was absurd, and he was fully prepared to teach her the importance of male superiority in his house.

But his mental raving was cut short when he saw light streaming from two doors in the hallway, each barely cracked open. The first was the closet that he had forbidden Molly from ever opening. His eyes darkened, his thick eyebrows drawing down and creasing his forehead.

So she'd disobeyed his orders. He couldn't say he was surprised; the girl was insolent and disobedient, after all. So it turned out he had another lesson to teach her as well. Frowning, he wrapped his fingers around the hilt of the saber that hung from his belt and neared the second door. He placed his free hand on the knob and shoved it open.

The first thing he noticed was the room seemed abnormally bright. But this was the only thing he had time to observe as a thick, heavy cloth was suddenly thrown over his head. He yelled, moving to draw his sword too late as the fabric was wound around his arms and chest. Screaming and thrashing, he desperately tried to loosen the stuffy binds, now realizing that they were the room's draperies removed from the windows, but they were already tied securely around his legs.

"Molly! Take this off of me or I swear to Grimm I'll—"

"Kill me like the rest of your wives? I won't allow it."

"Why you insubordinate wretch! You belong to me! If you hadn't disobeyed my direct orders I wouldn't have to—"

His thrashing and yelling was cut short as Molly picked up the first thing she saw—in this case, a heavy flower vase—and hurled it at his fabric-covered head.

Serena, who had been busy tying more ropes and string, whatever Seiya could find in the room, around their enemy, stopped her attempts as Bluebeard's body collapsed to the ground with a thud that shook the room. Blinking, she turned a proud stare up to Molly, broken vase still in hand.

"Now that is exactly what I'm talking about!" she cheered.

It was then that they heard voices from the first floor and Molly gasped, her eyes brightening beneath the flushed cheeks and ragged hair. "Taiki! Yaten! Up here!" she called, dropping the shattered vase and explaining to Seiya and Serena that her brothers had arrived.

It took her brothers only a minute to rush up the stairs and find the room, though they stopped and gaped in astonishment, peering curiously at the fallen, curtain-entangled body and the two strangers who still held lengths of rope in their hands.

"Molly?" the man with a long gray ponytail asked.

For her part, Molly immediately found herself crying again and launched herself into the arms of her brother.

Serena sighed and dropped the rope before climbing to her feet with a weary grin. "Well," she said, patting the brown-haired brother on the shoulder as she headed out of the room, "turns out we didn't need your help after all, gentlemen. But I'll gladly let you clean up the mess."

* * *

The first thing Serena did when she entered the castle's landing was shrug off her shoes. Sitting cross-legged against the tapestry-covered wall, she joyously massaged her swollen feet, vowing to demand better shoes the first chance she got. Fashion and style were one thing, after all, but hardly meant for traipsing around saving dramas and tragedies.

Sighing, she leaned back, placing her soles down on the marble floor. Its coolness eased some of the hot, sweaty feeling and she could momentarily ignore the summer's last burst of heat. A gentle breeze from the large, open doorway offered even more comfort as it sifted through her loose bangs.

The thought to make her way to the dining hall and request a very large, very cold glass of lemonade struck Serena as a splendid idea, but just as she was opening her eyes and beginning to stand, she heard a voice calling her.

Looking up, Serena saw Lita walking toward her, a smile on her face and some yards of gorgeous blue velvet draped over one arm. The dirt and ash smudges had been washed from her face and her hair neatly combed into a low tail. Even the clothes she wore—a simple white maid's outfit—though nothing like her magical ball gown, were far more suiting than the rags Serena had last seen on her.

"Lita!" she exclaimed, clamoring to her feet despite her legs' protests. She grabbed her shoes off the floor and pulled the taller girl into a hug. "How are you?"

"Oh, fine," Lita laughed, ruffling Serena's hair as she pulled away. "I was just taking this material down to the seamstress. Would you like to walk with me?"

"I would love to," Serena chirped, forgetting the temptation of a cold beverage and following Lita down the hall. "I'm so glad to see you. How are you getting along here?"

"It's wonderful! I may not be royalty, but compared to my stepmother's home, I feel treated as such. Everyone is so pleasant and I enjoy the work. I never minded the chores of cooking and cleaning, I love the feeling of being productive, really, but I always felt most comfortable with a spoon in my hand and flour on my face." She grinned, stroking the soft fabric on her arm. "And you? What have you been doing? I'm wonderfully glad that you weren't tossed out of the castle on my behalf."

"Oh, well, I've . . . been busy," Serena said with a wave of her hand, denouncing the importance of her own daily activities. Explaining child-eating wolves and homicidal merchants didn't seem worth the effort.

"Yes, there always seems to be something happening around here," Lita laughed. "After all, they just had an engagement ball, and now we're all running around to prepare for Prince Endymion's wedding ceremony. We're all kept very busy, measuring and fitting and sewing gowns and tunics. I've been helping out the seamstress much more than the chef lately, but it's been kind of fun."

Forcing a smile, Serena could only imagine how glorious and fanciful Endymion's ceremony would be. She knew that no "fairy tale wedding" in the real world could ever compare to the extravagance afforded them here. She tried desperately to be happy for him and his betrothed, but couldn't help remembering the tender touch and even more tender smile he had given her the night before. She pushed the feelings of jealousy aside. Lita was speaking again.

"You'll be here, won't you, Serena? For the wedding?"

"Oh, sure, I guess I will. And you? Will you be attending?"

Lita laughed loudly, as if the idea was preposterous. "Servants don't attend such things unless they're carrying platters of food. And I am not in any hurry to be the uninvited guest again."

Smiling back, Serena asked, shyly, "But, of course, you did enjoy the last ball."

She saw Lita's smile falter and a deep longing enter her eyes. "It was the most extraordinary and beautiful thing that has ever happened to me." Her cheerfulness was gone, replaced by reminiscing and something deeper. Something powerful that Serena couldn't place but felt she understood.

"I'm sorry to have mentioned it."

"Don't be," Lita comforted, her smile returning. "It may not have ended how I wish it had, but it did take me away from a life I hated and put me here—thanks to you. Besides, it is a memory that brings boundless joy, along with the tears."

Serena harrumphed. "I don't think I would be wasting many tears on that sorry excuse for a prince."

Lita ignored the contempt in Serena's voice with a chuckle. "He did what he felt best for himself, his family, and his kingdom. Can you say you would have acted differently?"

"I most certainly can! He's in love with you, Lita. He should be following his heart, not some stupid political preconceptions!"

The servant's soft smile persisted. "Only in fables can such things be ignored." Serena fought to bite back her response to _that._ "Besides," Lita continued, her voice shaking the tiniest bit, "perhaps he never was in love with me, but with the magic that had disguised me as a suitable bride, as he said. I had barely met him, after all."

Rolling her eyes, Serena shifted her shoes to the other hand. She was getting sick of hearing excuses that undermined very obvious feelings. "Are you in love with _him?_"

It was a long time before Lita answered, during which Serena hoped she hadn't crossed the limit of friendly curiosity. Finally, the girl replied, "I saw him this morning. He was sitting out in the garden, strumming on a lute and humming to himself. I stood and watched him. He didn't notice me. I don't know what he was playing, but he was frowning. He looked as though he was going to cry, and I longed to change that. It hurt to walk away and leave him be. I felt everything in me begging to turn around and return to him, but I knew it would be awkward and inappropriate. I dared not upset him again." She paused and sighed gently. "Yes, Lady Serena, I'm afraid I am in love with him. And I'm afraid that I will be for the rest of my life."

She came to an abrupt stop in front of an open wooden door. The whirring of weaving looms and spindles could be heard inside. "Here we are. Thank you for walking with me. I trust you can find your way back to the main hall?"

Though Serena hadn't been paying much attention to where they were going, she said that she could. As Lita turned to leave, though, she reached out and grabbed her by the elbow.

"Lita, I—" she hesitated, then smiled brightly. "I believe you deserve even more than the most fantastic prince, but if your heart belongs to Nephlite, don't give up on him yet."

Lita stared back, her eyes doubtful, but she faked a smile.

"Goodnight, Serena. I hope to see you again some time. You've been a true friend."

"You know where to find me if ever you need me. For anything." Serena bid her goodnight and turned to head back the way they had come.

Later that night, as she lie in her overstuffed bed, Serena racked her brain for something she could say to Nephlite to convince him to give Lita another chance. A first chance. But she could think of nothing.

* * *

_Please review._


	11. The Pea Test

Someone asked about my reference for the fairy tales. While I probably have a dozen or so different versions of Grimm's fairy tales, my main source is _The Complete Fairy Tales of the Brothers Grimm,_ translated by Jack Zipes.

A bit of history: Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm published their collection of fairy tales multiple times during their life, sometimes omitting previous tales, adding new ones, and often changing parts that were deemed too gory to include in later versions. What can I say? I like the gory versions. Other than that, I have used some Disney-isms for familiarity-sake, but have tried to avoid it.

Please ask any fairy-tale questions you may have, I'm happy to clarify!

Thanks to Phantasy Star for her magical editing.

Enjoy!

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
by Alicia Blade

Chapter 11: The Pea Test  
_She went into the bedroom and laid a pea on the bedstead.  
Then she took twenty mattresses and piled them on top of the pea.  
This was where the princess was to sleep that night._  
from The Pea Test

Serena was awakened by incessant pounding on her bedroom door. With a groan, she hugged her pillow tight around her ears and pretended not to hear it, but the knocking didn't stop.

"Go away!" she grumbled.

"Lady Serena, are you awake?" she heard Andrew's voice through the door.

"No!"

The knocking paused briefly, before knocking again, even louder. "Lady Serena!"

Growling, she flopped onto her back and stared agitatedly at the dark ceiling. Her curtains were open, but the moon must have been on the other side of the castle, for the room was dark. She could only guess what god-awful time of the night it was.

Finally, Serena threw her feet over the side of the bed and stomped to the door, swinging it open with an angry "What now?"

Andrew took a surprised step away, but quickly recovered. "You're needed beyond the castle walls."

She glared at him, her gaze sweeping over his wrinkle-free white tunic, neatly combed blonde hair, and perky green eyes.

"You've got to be kidding," she mumbled.

Andrew shook his head. "Afraid not, Mi'lady. It's quite important."

"What time is it?"

"The sun will be up in an hour."

She growled and slammed her forehead against the doorframe. "Andrew, I spent yesterday fighting a brutal serial murderer and calming down his hysterical wife. The day before that was spent traipsing through the woods in a nightgown and taking on a hungry wolf. I've had very little to eat and even less time to sleep. Now, can't this wait until morning?"

"I'm afraid not, Lady Serena," Andrew answered apologetically. "Now, please, get dressed and meet me by the eastern gate in ten minutes." Ignoring Serena's whimpering, Andrew turned and dashed down the hall.

Ten minutes later, Serena emerged groggily on the steps to the castle's eastern entrance, attempting to tie her hair up in its signature buns, yawn, stretch, and walk at the same time. It only took her a moment to spot Andrew standing on the cobblestone road just outside, holding a steaming mug in one hand and a basket in the other.

"Please tell me that's breakfast."

"Of course. Three different kinds of muffins, plus piping hot coffee. I wasn't sure how you liked it, so I brought both sugar and cream."

Though she tried to fight it, Serena's lips slowly curled up in a grateful smile. "All right, you've slightly redeemed yourself," she said, taking the mug and spooning a few heaps of sugar into it while Andrew reached down and picked up a glowing lantern that was casting a warm glow over the dark street. "So what's the emergency?" she asked, blowing steam off the top of the fresh brew.

"Right this way." Andrew started walking along the road while Serena devoured an orange, cranberry, and walnut muffin. They'd only walked a few blocks before Andrew stopped in front of a large house with a beautiful garden filled with bluebells and hyacinths and a burbling water fountain. Serena remembered seeing the house while she and Nephlite had searched for Cinderella, but they hadn't gone inside, so she had assumed that the residents didn't include any available daughters.

"This is the Penelope Mansion," Andrew informed her with a sweep of his arm. "They are one of the richest and most esteemed noble families in Aysel. The only heir to the family fortune, Elios Penelope, will be celebrating his seventeenth birthday next week and his parents intend for that day to also be his wedding day. They have spent the last two months attempting to find a suitable bride for him, but without luck. It seems that they've developed a test that all possible suitors have thus far been unable to pass."

"What sort of a test?"

"Come see for yourself." Without hesitation, Andrew approached the far side of the house where a tall oak tree stood, its golden leaves swaying in the early morning's gentle breezes. Grabbing onto the lowest of the branches, Andrew swung himself up into the boughs with amazing agility that was certainly related, in part, to his elfin genes.

"Andrew! What are you doing?" Serena hissed from below, searching the yard and house for any signs of life.

Looking down, Andrew held a finger to his lips to quiet Serena, before beckoning her to follow.

Serena shook her head and took a long sip of her coffee. "You're absolutely crazy if you think—"

"Lady Serena," Andrew whispered urgently, "this is tremendously important. Now, the branches are quite sturdy and close enough together that you should have no problem climbing them. Quickly, now."

Glowering, Serena unhappily set the mug down in the grass. "Great. All I ask for is one peaceful night's sleep…" she mumbled as she wrapped her hands around the first branch, testing its strength, before hauling herself upward.

A moment later, she and Andrew were sitting level with the house's second story and Serena could see the first rays of pink appearing in the sky above the neighboring rooftops.

"What are we doing up here?"

Andrew waved a hand and shushed her again, before saying in muted tones, "This is her window, here."

"Whose window?"

Without answering, Andrew began to crawl along the branch toward a bay window that jutted out from the brick wall.

"Wait! What are you doing? Isn't this called breaking and entering? If I get arrested because of you—"

Andrew winked at her. "The window is open, Mi'lady. We don't have to break anything, just enter. And besides, even if you do get arrested, you are a guest of the royal family. I highly doubt much harm will come to you."

"How reassuring."

Her sarcasm went unheard, or simply ignored, as Andrew slipped through the open window, his white tunic disappearing behind the eyelet curtains. After taking a moment to rub her fingers over her temples and question her own sanity, Serena followed him inside.

The room was large and plain with higher ceilings than Serena would have expected and a bed in the very center, though bed was a very lackluster term for the sight that greeted her. The frame was stacked with mattress upon mattress upon mattress, of all different colors and thicknesses, with the occasional blanket or duvet or sheet set poking out from in between. Serena raised an eyebrow as her eyes traveled up the pile, figuring there must have been a dozen mattresses or more.

Immediately, she understood the mysterious test that the Penelopes had created for their son's suitors.

"The pea test?" she growled. "You woke me up at, no, _before_ the break of dawn so that we could solve the _pea test?_"

Truth be told, she'd never much liked that fairy tale to begin with. Now she was sure she liked it less.

Andrew gestured for her silence. "Listen."

So listen she did and not a moment later the obvious sound of crying could be heard from the top of the mattress pile. The sobs were so pained and heart wrenching that Serena's anger quickly fizzled away and she glared, more irritated than mad, at Andrew, wishing she could have stayed upset longer.

"Fine," she said with a sigh and walked to the foot of the bed. She shifted from foot to foot for a while, trying to think of an acceptable way to approach the situation, before clearing her throat and calling up, "Hello? Somebody up there?"

The crying stopped and a moment later a girl's face appeared at the top of the bed, blinking down on them. She had shoulder-length hair that, while the room was dark, Serena could have sworn was bubble-gum pink, and red eyes—not red from crying, just red. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes glossy from tears, but despite all this, her heart-shaped face and long lashes and pale complexion did make the girl quite adorable. Pretty even. She couldn't have been older than thirteen. "Who's there?"

Serena swayed nervously, waving up at the girl. "Hi. Um, my name's Serena, and this is Andrew. Don't panic, we're guests of the royal family. What's your name?"

The girl looked between the two, her eyes fluttering curiously. "Rini."

"Why are you crying, Rini?"

Pouting, Rini hung her head so that her hair cascaded over the side of the top mattress. "Because I don't know what to do."

"What do you mean?"

"I've been put up on top of these mattresses and told that I'm being tested, and I must pass the test in order to marry Elios next week. But I don't know what the test is and I haven't slept a wink all night. I don't understand at all and if I don't pass, he'll marry somebody else. But… but I love him!" She sobbed and the tears started up again. As soon as they had started though, they stopped and Rini looked at Serena and Andrew with a gasp. "Are you part of the test?"

"No," Serena assured her. "But I think I can help you."

"Really?"

Serena nodded. "You see, it's a stupid test, really, and lord only knows what they're trying to prove with it. But… Elios's parents have put a pea under your bed."

"A pea?"

"Yes, a pea, under the bottom mattress."

"As in... 'peas and carrots'?"

"That's the one. Right under here." She gestured at the bottom mattress.

Rini blinked at her curiously, her brow slowly drawing down in evident confusion and a little touch of disbelief. "Why would they do that?"

"Well… to see if it bothers you, actually."

"A pea."

"Yes."

"We are talking about the vegetable, aren't we?"

"Yes, the…. you know, the little… green…" Serena held up her fingers to show the size of an average pea, and felt quite silly as she did so. "Yes, the vegetable."

"Just one?"

"Just one."

"I see," Rini murmured, though it was obvious that she really didn't. "And… why would that bother me?"

Serena shrugged. "I told you it was a stupid test. I mean, if it were me, I would marry my son to the girl who had enough sense to ask for a smaller bed, but it's not my test."

"That _would_ make more sense, wouldn't it?" Andrew mused. Serena shot a cool look at him, before smiling up at the confused girl.

"So here's what to do: tomorrow morning Elios's parents are going to ask how you slept. You need to tell them that you had the worst night's sleep you've had in your entire life, and all night long it felt like you were sleeping on a bowling ball."

Rini hesitated, before meekly asking, "What's a bowling ball?"

"Oh, it's a big, heavy ball with holes in it that you throw down this skinny lane and try to knock down these…" Serena ceased her description, realizing what a waste of breath it was, and shook her head. "Er, never mind. How about a watermelon? Tell them it felt like you were sleeping on a watermelon."

"Because of the pea."

"Yes."

"But who could ever feel a pea through twelve mattresses? Who could ever feel a pea through _one_ mattress?"

Serena shook her head. "You're asking the wrong girl. I'm just the Chosen One. So are we clear on what you're going to say tomorrow? Because we could both be sleeping right now."

Rini shook her head. "How do I know that you aren't tricking me and that by telling them about the pea I'm actually failing the test? How do I know that they're not testing my honesty or faithfulness and by lying to them or listening to complete strangers, I'll fail?"

Serena bit the inside of her cheek and looked back at Andrew. "She has a good point."

"Yes, she's one of the smarter suitors the Penelopes have found. I think she and Elios will be very happy together, don't you?"

"You're more hopeless than me," Serena said, sighing, and turning back to the girl while rubbing at a kink in her neck, having formed from staring up at the girl. "Okay, look. You're in love with this Elios guy?"

"Oh, yes!"

"Really, truly in love?"

"Absolutely."

"You're not just after his money or good name or anything like that?"

The girl gasped, appalled at the idea. "Of course not!"

"And does he feel the same way?"

Rini flushed and shyly nodded her head. "He told me he's been in agony the last two months, thinking that his parents would choose one of the other girls before it was my turn. He wants to marry me. I know he does."

"Well, then, if you take my advice, about the watermelon, and it doesn't work, you two can just elope."

Andrew sounded like he was gagging on something. "Serena, that isn't how—" His words turned into a yelp as Serena dug her heel into his foot.

"Elope?" Rini asked.

"Sure. You don't really want parents-in-law who make you sleep on top of twelve mattresses, anyway, do you? You and Elios will be perfectly happy together. Go find a cottage in the woods or something. Have lots of little Penelope babies. Be happy."

Rini was silent a long time as she pondered the suggestion, before a small smile appeared on her lips. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Excellent question. But this is only if the watermelon idea doesn't work, got it? Otherwise, I think Andrew here might have a hernia."

"A what?"

"Nothing. Just... try my suggestion first, okay?

Rini nodded determinedly.

"Good. So, we'll be leaving now. Have an awful night's sleep."

"I will. Thank you!" She cheerily bid the two good bye before disappearing into the heap of bedding.

* * *

Serena woke up to the chiming of noon bells with a satisfied yawn. When she and Andrew had returned to the castle, Serena immediately took her leave of the guardian and proceeded back to her bedroom where she wasted no time falling into a deep slumber. Now, refreshed and rejuvenated, she hopped out of bed, brushed her hair and teeth, put on the most casual dress she could find, and crossed her fingers that the rest of the day would go by without incident. If she could spend just a few hours without having to solve some absurd problem, she believed she would be returned to her normal, chipper self.

In order to help her reach this goal, she began to meander aimlessly through the castle, continuously ducking into odd rooms, partly in exploration and partly in an attempt to keep from running into one of the guardians on accident.

Just as she had on her first afternoon of searching through the castle, Serena stumbled upon dozens of strange and interesting rooms: a music room filled with violins, cymbals, flutes, and instruments she could not name; a painter's studio where the floor was covered with a large drop cloth splattered in different colors, and many easels stood haphazardly throughout the room containing everything from untouched canvases to masterpieces waiting to be framed; then another library, a sitting room, a tea parlor.

Humming to herself, enjoying some nice, quiet alone time, Serena continued down the hallways and eventually discovered a weapons room at the base of the northeast tower. But the weapons did not appear dangerous and ominous. Rather, they were exhibited like pieces of fine art. Jeweled dagger hilts glittered from the walls. Sword sheaths shone in the candlelight in every material from branded leather to ornamented gold. An enormous bow was tacked to the far wall next to an onyx-headed arrow with ebony raven feathers sewn to its shaft. It hung harmless, sleek, and beautiful. The north wall was draped with a heavy blue velvet curtain, a backdrop for full suits of armor that stood displayed against it, their clean, silver outlines glowing in the sunlight from the window. Each suit had its own weapon: an axe, a broadsword, a spear. Serena's eyes skimmed over all the room's honored décor with intrigue, but she was getting ready to move on to another room when she caught sight of a tiny, unusual marking on one of the stone walls.

Furrowing her brow, Serena approached the mark, which was a few inches below a burning sconce, and ran her fingers over it. Though it was faded and shallow, it looked as if someone had carved a date into the wall, though she couldn't quite make it out—except for one line that looked peculiarly like an arrow, pointing toward the blue curtain. Serena pursed her lips together and followed the arrow's direction, tracing her fingers along the mortar of the stone wall until they came to the drapery, and slowly inching it away from the wall—but only stone met her.

Disappointed, she sighed and dropped the curtain. "So much for Nancy Drew," she thought, stepping away, then squealed as she felt something sharp jab her in the side. "Ouch!" Jumping back, she turned to see that it was nothing more than one of the suits of armor that she had bumped into, true to her clumsy nature. Rolling her eyes, she slapped the guilty dagger away and turned to leave the room, but was stopped by a curious creaking noise.

She turned back to face the suit of armor. It swayed, it rocked, and finally it toppled to the floor with a deafening crash.

Screeching, Serena jumped away to avoid the falling chunks of metal. Once the echo of the fall had died away, she bit her nail and rushed to the doorway, peering out to see if anyone had heard the commotion, before closing the door and turning to analyze her mess.

"Oh dear..." she mumbled, walking toward the suit—one arm splayed out at a strange angle, the other missing a gauntlet, and... oh, where did that dagger end up at? After whining to herself and tottering from foot to foot, Serena tried desperately to haul the armor up to its upright, standing position, and finally—after much grunting and perspiration, had it held up against its support, but with its torso still dangling over her shoulder. "Okay," she gasped, "I'm just going to lean you against the wall and no one will ever know." With one last heave, she pushed the armor toward the curtain—where it paused briefly on its previous stand, before toppling back _through_ the wall!

Wailing, Serena jumped back again, tripping over the missing gauntlet and tumbling to her rear. Once again, she listened for any sounds of someone coming down the hall to check on the horrendously loud fiasco, and, when none came, she briefly considered slipping through the door and running back to her quarters before the mess could be discovered.

But her curiosity quickly overcame that idea and she crawled on her hands and knees to the fallen armor and the blue curtain partly covering it and drew the drapery aside.

The suit was in worse shape than ever, dented and dusty where it had landed, with one shin piece missing and the helmet looking as if it could be severed by a slight breeze. But all this was quickly forgotten as Serena took in the staircase it had landed on, shadowed and twisting upward and out of sight. She glanced at the marking on the wall. The small etched arrow was pointing straight at this hidden doorway. With a gulp, she drew herself to her feet and stepped over the armor.

The stairway was dark except for the occasional window slit into the stone that let in the early afternoon light. The stairs were dusty, but not disgustingly so, and while it was obvious that the stairway hadn't seen life in some time, it was just as obvious that it wasn't altogether forgotten. She climbed for what must have been three or four stories, pausing occasionally to glance through one of the windows—most of which looked over the town and farmlands below.

Finally, Serena reached a wooden door at the end of the stairway and, holding her breath, pushed it open. It budged without resistance and she found herself in a little round room with a few curtained windows but nothing on the walls. It was empty with the exception of some straw scattered over the floor and a handful of broken chains that glittered like gold against the stone and a simple wooden spinning wheel in the center of the room.

Serena's eyelashes fluttered curiously as she approached the spinning wheel, wondering why anyone would keep such a room hidden if all it had to hide was a rotting domestic tool. She smoothed her hands briefly over the seat, checking for splinters but finding it smooth, and sat down. She tapped her foot against the pedal and the wheel started spinning without resistance. Stopping, she pulled out a few pieces of straw that had gotten stuck in the spokes, and traced her fingers up to the needle that sat innocently with one of the thin golden strands dangling from its eye. That's when Serena realized the importance of this room and this spinning wheel.

It was where Rumpelstiltskin had spun the straw into gold, as a favor for Mina. Serena looked around the room, certain that her theory was correct, and tried to imagine herself as the poor farmer girl who had claimed to be capable of something she was not, who had accepted the help from a devious dwarf man with cruel intentions, who had dreamed of marrying a prince while watching straw being threaded into one end and come out gold on the other.

Serena sat mindlessly tapping on the pedal, watching the wheel spin and listening to its quiet whirring for a long time, until muffled voices reached her from the courtyard below. Pausing, she stood and crept to one of the windows, seeing maids and squires rushing around in the garden, in and out of the gates, talking fast and barking orders at each other that Serena couldn't understand. She was surprised to see the sun dipping beneath the castle and wondered just how long she had been sitting in the little room, mesmerized and silent.

Shaking her head, she picked up her skirts and rushed through the open doorway and down the stairs, not looking back.

Just as she reached the weapons room and hopped over the fallen suit of armor, she heard a commotion out in the hallway and paused. A couple maids ran past the shut doorway, talking excitedly. From their breathless chattering, Serena understood, "They're bringing him into the west ballroom. They've called for clean bandages."

"But who are they?" asked another.

"Little men! Smaller even than elves! They're like that evil man from before, but kinder looking. I've never seen anything like them."

Their voices drifted away as they rounded a corner. Serena hesitated momentarily, having the distinct feeling that she was needed in the west ballroom and that someone, probably Hota, Andrew, or Seiya, would soon be coming for her.

With a sigh and one last look at the dangerous treasures, Serena left the room and made her way in the direction the maids had been running.

The ballroom was a flurry of activity when she entered in through its massive curtained doorways. Servants scurried in and out carrying herbs, wine, bandages, and wash towels, damp and dry. They ignored her, each set to a specific task, many of them gossiping in whispers to themselves. As she walked into the room, she immediately saw the cause for their commotion.

On the south wall, where the thrones sat on their own platform flanked by empty orchestra seating, two small men, each less than four feet in height and perfectly round about their middle, stood talking gruffly to the royal family. King Artemis and the Princes Malachite and Nephlite each appeared rapt in the men's story, the queen wept at their side hovering over the smaller of the two thrones. Beside it, Endymion stood, his arms crossed over his chest, frowning deeply, and Jadeite knelt, looking intently at . . .

Serena's heart jumped.

"Zoicite!" she squealed and dashed forward upon recognizing the prince's sandy brown hair. He turned toward her and she felt her feet involuntarily come to a halt beneath her, one hand clapping over her mouth. Wrapped tightly over his eyes was a thick, gauzy bandage covered in smatterings of dried blood. Her eyes widened, her knees weakening beneath her.

Endymion looked up at the sound of her voice, his frown deepening as she hesitantly came closer. Stepping away from the throne and his family, he walked briskly toward her, roughly grabbing her upper arm and pulling her away from the bustle of people.

"What are you doing here? We're busy!" he growled into her ear, his hand tightening harshly.

"What happened to him?" she responded, absently clawing at his fingers while still trying to look at the bandaged prince over her shoulder.

"You tell me," he hissed.

Finally, she looked up into Endymion's eyes, astonishment evident in her features. "What do you mean?"

"You knew something was going to happen. You knew he was running into danger, and yet you did nothing to stop it!"

"I don't . . ."

"You told me so yourself, Serena! You told me you needed to warn him. What exactly did you send him into out there?"

"But I didn't . . . . I only suggested . . ." she paused, unsure what she had said. Was this really her fault? Endymion's glare burning into her made it easy to believe that it was. She slowly became aware of a dull aching in her arm and her fingers going numb. "You're hurting me."

His grip didn't loosen. "You promised me he would be fine!"

Serena glanced back at Zoicite, looking helpless and lost amidst the chaotic sounds of the ballroom, then at Endymion's cold stare. An intense anger boiled inside of her. "I have promised you nothing," she spat, returning the glare. "And he _will_ be fine!" Ripping her arm away from him, she stormed across the marble floor toward the injured Prince Zoicite.

* * *

_Please review._


	12. Blind

No real author notes, except a plea:

Please register at **stopglobalwarming dot org.** Global warming is a real problem and we can all make a huge difference by making small changes in our lifestyles. Thanks!

And thanks to all reviewers and my editor, Phantasy Star.

Enjoy!

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 12: Blind  
_He escaped with his life, but the thorns into which he fell pierced his eyes.  
Then he wandered blind through the forest and did naught but lament and weep over his loss._  
from Rapunzel

"Zoicite, what happened?" Serena asked, rushing to the throne. The prince turned toward her and she could see red scratches across his face that disappeared beneath the collar of his tunic. His clothes, though clean, were covered in holes and tears.

"Who is this?" he asked as she kneeled down beside him. The two little men who had been speaking with Artemis, Malachite, and Nephlite, stopped to watch her, as did the three guardians, who Serena had failed to notice lurking in the throne's shadow.

"It's Serena," she answered.

"Ah, of course, Lady. I did not recognize your voice at first." He did not seem to be in pain and smiled in her direction as a maid sat down on a stool and began wrapping a yard of linen around his arm. On the ground beside her was a large pile of discarded, blood-stained bandages.

"Zoicite, what happened to you?"

"I found her," he said simply, his smile widening. "And you were right. Everything you said was right."

"What did she say?" Endymion growled from behind her.

"Many things," Zoicite answered, oblivious to the animosity in Endymion's tone. "She said that the girl in the tower would be beautiful, as beautiful as her voice. And that she could be the girl of my dreams, the girl I would love more than any other, and she was right. Serena also said that she was kept in the tower against her will by an evil witch." His grin faded. "She was right about that, too."

"Start from the beginning, dear," Queen Luna said, wrapping her hands around

Zoicite's freshly-bandaged fingers.

The prince inhaled a long breath. "While on our hunting trip, I left the group one evening and came upon a strange tower. I could hear singing coming from the top, yet could find no entrance. Then, an old woman approached and sang out a rhyme, which was followed by a waterfall of hair that reached from the single window at the top to the ground. The woman used it as a ladder to climb up.

"I was so baffled by this that I told Serena and Sir Andrew about it when we returned. Serena convinced me to go back and rescue the girl from the tower; in the case that she needed rescuing, of course."

Serena could feel Endymion glaring at the back of her head and wished that Zoicite had left her role out of his retelling.

"The next morning, I rode straight to the place where I remembered the tower being. I thought it would take me all day to find it again, but as I got closer, I could hear the singing. It was as if the wind was bringing the sound directly to me. Like she was singing for me alone.

"I followed the sound straight to the tower, but this time I did not bother to search for a door. Instead, I called out the same song I had heard the old woman sing. 'Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair, that I may climb the lovely stair.' The singing stopped abruptly and there was a moment in which nothing happened. It was like the entire world had stopped breathing. Then, the same cascade of hair fell down beside me, the color of the ocean, like a waterfall.

"I took a deep breath, hoping I wouldn't weigh too much, then began to climb. Her hair felt like a silk rope—strong and healthy and softer than the most luscious velvet. As I got closer to the window, I saw that the hair was wrapped around a rod that was attached to the stones, which was why it didn't hurt her to have someone climb it. And then . . . then I saw her."

Zoicite sank into the throne, his face tilting up toward the ceiling as the memory returned to him. His smile had crawled up even brighter than before. "She was the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen. Not only was her hair impossibly beautiful, but she was looking at me with these huge, hopeful blue eyes. I almost dropped the rope . . . er, her hair . . . because the gaze made me so weak. I could think of nothing to say for a long time and just hung there, staring at her, and her staring right back. At first, I thought she might be afraid, but she seemed more curious than anything. Finally, she asked me in a voice that sang even when she was only speaking, 'Are you a prince?'"

Zoicite chuckled at the memory. "I couldn't help but laugh. Her voice was so sweet and innocent that it tickled my nerves at hearing it. I told her that I was, then, and she invited me inside. I told her my name and she said that she was called Rapunzel by her keeper, but that her birth name was Amy. After that, both of our times of silence were broken and we talked and talked. She was full of questions, about most everything, and I answered them as best I could. I soon learned that she had been put in the tower when she was very young and had no memory of the outside world. So I told her about our kingdom, my family, especially all my brothers. And I told her about feasts and dances, the marketplace, and the wheat fields—she could see only forest from her window. Then she told me about the birds that visited her and the perfect sunsets she could see over the horizons. Hours passed and dusk came and then we heard the old woman calling for her to let down her hair.

"Amy turned to me, looking suddenly very afraid, and said—I remember her words exactly—'My Prince, have you come to rescue me?' I told her that I would rescue her and bring her to my kingdom and marry her if she would have me, and she said that she would. She went to the window, wrapped her hair around the pole, and dropped it down to the witch.

"The woman climbed up muttering and cursing Rapunzel for taking too long. She didn't notice me at first when she entered the room, a basket smelling of fresh bread on one arm. But when she did see me, her eyes flared with anger and hatred." Zoicite shuddered visibly. "She began screaming, first at Amy, then at me. She asked if I'd touched her; she accused her of being indecent. She called her horrible things, then threatened that I would never see her again." Gritting his teeth, Zoicite touched the material over his eyes. "I had no idea how right she would be.

"Then the witch reached inside the basket and pulled out a bread knife. I began to draw my sword, but her aged look was deceiving and she was quick and surprisingly agile. She stabbed me in the shoulder, and before I could recover from the shock, she had grabbed my tunic and, with abnormal strength, pushed me from the window. As I fell, I saw my Amy weeping and clawing at the witch's back. It was the last thing I saw. The last thing I will ever see.

"The tower was surrounded by thorn bushes. I crashed into them and found them to be part blessing and part curse. They broke my fall, from which I certainly would have broken my neck. But then it seemed as if their branches came to life, grabbing and clawing at me. They tore at my clothes, my skin, my face." He paused, running an absent hand over the scratches on his cheeks and lips. "They tore out my eyes.

"Somehow, I managed to crawl away from them. I spent the night wandering aimlessly, trying desperately to cover my wounds. Without the heat from the sun, I didn't know which direction to go. All the forest sounds were dark and unfamiliar when they weren't drowned out by the sound of sweet Amy's crying still in my head. I've never felt more lost and helpless. Then, when it seemed I had walked for weeks—though I now know it was scarcely two days—I heard the sound of water: a joyful, bubbling sound. I followed it to a small brook. It wasn't deep, but allowed for me to drink and bathe my wounds. I lay down beside it, thinking I would die there. Thinking I had just met my love and now I would never see her again. I would rather have died than live forever deformed and without her, to live knowing I had failed the one request she had made of me.

"Then I fell asleep."

"An' that's when we found 'im," one of the short men said in a guttural, rough voice. Serena turned to the man who had spoken. He had thick red hair pulled back into a braid, and a longer beard hanging in two braids down to his stomach. Though he was roughly the size and shape of a barrel, his arms and short legs were composed of defined muscles. Both he and his companion wore soiled tunics in grays, browns, and blacks that looked to have been mended and patched time and time again. "'E was sleepin' like a baby."

"'An snorin' like an old man," chuckled the other man in a voice that was just as gruff. He had straggly black hair that was loose over his shoulders, making a full wall across his face with a beard and mustache. His gray eyes, mostly hidden beneath thick eyebrows, laughed in the afternoon light. "We tried to wake 'im, but 'e must of been dreamin' of some sweet lass. I don't think nothin' short of an earthquake woulda stirred 'im."

"So instead, we took 'im home, where Snowflake could take care of 'im," finished the red-haired man.

"Snowflake?" Serena asked.

Zoicite chuckled. "Her name is really Snow White, but these men and their five brothers call her everything but. She doesn't seem to mind. Actually, she calls herself Raye."

"Raye? Why Raye?"

Shrugging, Zoicite answered, "I asked her the same thing. She told me that when she was a child, her father had called her his little ray of sunshine. That, and she said that her given name brings back sad memories, so she doesn't like to use it."

The two small men exchanged uncomfortable looks—making it obvious that they knew exactly what kind of memories Raye was referring to—and Serena couldn't help but grin knowingly. She'd guessed as much, realizing that these could only be dwarfs, and the most famous fairy tale dwarfs at that, and while it was never mentioned in the fairy story, it made sense that Snow White would choose another name to ward off suspicious ears. After all, being a runaway princess must have been an identity hard enough to keep secret. "And what are your names?" she asked.

"I'm Qualakig," said the red-haired dwarf. "And this 'ere is Gralogwid."

"It's a pleasure to have you here. You are most welcome in our home and have our sincerest gratitude for bringing Zoicite home to us," King Artemis said.

"Of course, and this Snow White and all of your brothers, as well," concurred his wife.

Qualakig snorted, looking around at the finely decorated and furnished ballroom in contempt. "Thanks, but we won't be stayin' long. Too wide open around 'ere. Can't wait to get back to forests and coal mines." Gralogwid grunted in agreement.

"Please, tell us more," Hota suddenly interjected. "What happened when you brought Zoicite back to your home?"

The dwarfs looked startled, seeing the small winged girl on Seiya's shoulder for the first time, and looking at her with superstitious fear and curiosity.

"Well, lit'le miss," Gralogwid stuttered, tightening his leather belt, "Whitey fixed 'im right up. Took 'er but a minute to have 'is scratches all cleaned and tended an' he was wrapped up like a mummy. 'E slept through the whole thing, and just kept on sleepin' through the day and into the next. We were beginnin' to think 'e might be in some sorta coma, but then 'e finally woke up. 'E told us his story, an' asked us to bring 'im home. So we did, an' here we are."

"When's lunch?" Qualakig broke in, and they all heard the loud rumbling of his stomach. Serena hid her giggling.

"We'll have a feast prepared right away," Queen Luna said, waving at a couple servants standing not far away.

"No need to make a feast for us," Qualakig amended, but put up no further argument and made no effort to stop the servants before they left. "An' I must say, Miss, young Master Xylophone over there has healed up mighty nice."

"Xylophone?" Endymion admonished with a chuckle.

Zoicite shrugged. "They seem to have something against given names. I think it might have something to do with their own being so hard to pronounce."

Both dwarfs snuffed at that, turning up their noses. "Jus' 'cause you can't say them doesn't mean they're hard to say."

Zoicite grinned.

"I was sayin', though," Qualakig continued, tugging on his thick beard, "that although 'is wounds are doin' lots better now, we don' think he's ever gonna recover 'is eyesight. Snowball thinks as much." The dwarfs nodded seriously, looking for all like they were medical experts. From the looks of the bandages over Zoicite's eyes, though, no one thought to dispute them.

Jadeite looked back up at his brother Zoicite, still sitting on the throne. "Do your eyes hurt?"

Shrugging, the injured prince rubbed a finger over the cloth. "It's not so bad. Raye gave me some tea with a few special herbs before we left. I think they've been helping with the pain."

"We'll have some more solutions prepared if the pain comes back, of course," the queen said, carefully squeezing her son's hand.

"To lose your love and your sight in one day," Seiya's haunting voice sounded from behind the throne. "How very tragic." The sadness evident on his face almost made it seem that the tattoo tear was real, but beneath the gloomy overcast of his expression, the smallest hint of a smile glittered in his black eyes, as though he were seeing something beautiful that no one else could see.

"I wish I could meet this old hag," Hota said from his shoulder, folding her arms firmly against her chest. "She sounds like quite the character."

"Not to mention this girl of yours," Andrew pointed out, his pink lips curling mischievously.

Zoicite's head lowered, his face paling noticeably. "She is not my girl. I have lost her, before I truly had her. Lord knows where she is now." His voice began to shake. "Lord knows what that witch has done to her."

"Well, there's only one way to find out," Andrew said.

"Perhaps we should go on a little journey tomorrow," taunted Hota, her eyes glimmering. The three guardians simultaneously raised their gazes to Serena, who gulped beneath their burning gazes.

"Zoicite's right, you know," she said. "She could be anywhere by now."

"What else would you recommend?" Seiya drawled.

"Please," Zoicite said abruptly, rising from the chair. He grasped Jadeite's arm with one hand to steady himself and held up the other in protest. "I will not involve you all in this. This is my mess. This is my tragedy. I will not have you all risking your lives because I was weak. Besides," he sighed, "I cannot face Amy again. I failed her when she most needed me. She must hate me. Certainly she has no need of me."

"You can't possibly believe that!" Serena cried, grabbing onto Zoicite's hand. "You don't fall in love with someone because they can rescue you, especially when they're poised against a powerful sorceress! You fall in love with someone because they make you smile, because they bring a light into your life and fill something inside of you that no one else can. Did Rapunzel do this for you?"

Zoicite said nothing, but his body spoke loudly for him. Of course she had.

"Well I have no doubt that you did it for her. She called you her prince. _Hers._ If you don't go back to her, that would be the true failing. I'll go with you. I don't know what I'll be able to do, but I will do all I can. And Seiya, Andrew, and Hota will come with us, too."

"As will I!" Gralogwid shouted agreeably, holding up his fist. "I've been achin' for a good ol'-fashioned witch hunt!"

"An' I'm with you, too, Soy Breath!"

"I'll be with you, as well, brother," Jadeite said. "I'll be your eyes."

"Hold on a minute!" Endymion yelled, throwing up his hands. "Have you all lost your minds? We have no idea what this woman is capable of. Do you think those thorns just jumped to life of their own accord? Do you think that tower just built itself? And how many old women do you know who could single-handedly, _effortlessly,_ throw Zoicite out of a window? We don't know where she is, who she is, or even what she is, and you all want to charge up there on some foolish crusade. And Zoicite has only begun to heal! Do you really want to send him on this mad goose chase wrapped up in bandages?"

"Would you rather he stay miserable and heartbroken the rest of his life?" Serena growled, both hands firmly on her hips. "I don't think we can afford to miss this opportunity. What if Amy's in danger?" Endymion rolled his eyes, making Serena seethe beneath her skin. "What if it was you, Endymion? What if you knew that you had one chance to be with the love of your life—the only woman that you will ever be able to truly love—and you let it slip through your fingers? His wounds will heal. His heart might not." She glared up at him and waited as he glared stubbornly back. Endymion clenched his jaw as he looked into the passionate fire in her blue eyes. Finally, exhaling an exasperated breath, Endymion returned his gaze to his brother.

"Are you really going to go along with this, Zoicite?"

Zoicite gulped. "What she says is right. It may be a huge mistake, but I see no other choice. If I ever want to be with Amy . . . or even just to know that she is safe, it will be worth it."

After sweeping a slow, bitter look at the group preparing to charge into the sunset and risk their lives against a witch, Endymion finally let his shoulders slump unhappily. "Fine," he growled, glancing heatedly at Serena, before folding his arms and looking up at the lofty ceiling. "If Jadeite is your eyes, then I am your sword." He glanced down at Serena again. "But I still think you're crazy."

"I can live with that," she responded.

A strange tenseness clenched Endymion's stomach as he looked at her, watching her anger melt away to gratefulness, perhaps even pride. Shaking his head, he turned away and began walking back toward the main hall. "If anyone needs me, I'll be sharpening my weapons."

Soon after, the servants announced the preparation of the feast, but Endymion did not come down to join them.

* * *

After supper was eaten and the travelers had made plans for the following morning, Serena set out to find their missing companion. He had left the ballroom angry—and she knew most of that anger was directed at her. Whether it was because she'd encouraged Zoicite to go find Rapunzel in the first place, or because she was encouraging him to do it again, she wasn't sure. And if it had been anyone else, she thought she could have let the misdirected resentment roll right off her, but the thought of Endymion harboring any such feelings made her lose her appetite and filled her stomach with nerves. Besides, she was sure it would be bad luck to start on such a crusade with ill will between any of the companions. She had to make amends with the prince before they left the next morning. 

With that goal in mind, she'd decided to bring him food.

It certainly couldn't hurt any.

It wasn't difficult to find him as she traced her steps back to the weapon room she had earlier discovered. The forlorn suit of armor still lay collapsed and broken, half-concealed by the blue drape that hung over the stairway. At first glance the room looked undisturbed and Serena thought that perhaps Endymion had gone to another weapon room—surely the castle had more than one—but noting that the sconces were lit made her think perhaps he'd come through after all. Approaching the door, she pulled back the curtain and looked down at the armor. The gauntlet that had fallen off and tripped her before had been replaced haphazardly on its arm.

Pursing her lips, she quietly crept up the stairwell—which was now dark with the coming of night, but a warm orange light at the top kept her climbing. Finally, she reached the little round room and found Endymion sitting at the spinning wheel, polishing a sword in his lap just as he had said he would be. At his feet rested a few daggers and a short sword.

"What do you want?" he asked without looking up. His ebony bangs fell into his eyes.

"I brought you something to eat," Serena said, showing a plate of sliced meat and cheeses.

"Not hungry."

"Then don't eat it," she said, already feeling irritation welling up in her. Couldn't he be the slightest bit grateful?

Taking a deep breath, she shoved the emotion down and set the plate on the floor, directly in his line of sight. After a moment spent awkwardly teetering on her feet, she asked, "Do you come here often?" Then she flinched at the stupidity of the question.

"No," he answered. "I'd forgotten it was here, actually."

"Oh. But you knew about it before?"

He sighed and was silent for a long time, until Serena began to think he was ignoring her, until he finally answered impassively, "We used to play hide-and-seek when we were kids. Jade found it once and showed it to us, and we used to come up here to escape the servants or Mom and Dad, especially when there was a banquet or something that we were supposed to attend. But that was a long time ago." He looked up at her for the first time. "You know, there are servants who have been her for sixty years who probably don't know about this place, and you've been here for, what, six days?"

Serena kicked awkwardly at a pile of straw. "I kind of found it by accident."

"Obviously," he said with a snort and returned to his polishing.

"I wanted to thank you," she stuttered nervously, curling a lock of hair around her fingers. "…for joining us on this, um, mission. Everyone says you're the best hunter in the kingdom. Your skills will help a lot." Her heart was beating fast, her throat dry as she looked at him, desperately trying to forget his sinfully good looks and focus rather on her fading conversational skills.

"I'm not doing it for you."

"I know that."

"And I still think it's a bad idea. You do realize we got lucky before, right? That witch could have killed Zoicite. I'm amazed she didn't. And do you realize, Lady Serena, that any blood spilled on this witch hunt will be on your hands? This whole charade, everything that's happened, all comes back to you. You may have saved my niece's life, but I'm not so convinced you're the blessing to this kingdom that everyone thinks you are."

Serena tried to keep her breathing steady as anger and hurt welled inside of her—sinfully good looks forgotten. "How can you be so cruel? Zoicite is in love with her! Don't you think they should be together?"

Rolling his eyes, Endymion stuck the sword through the spokes of the wheel. The metal clanged hollowly against the wood. "Love, love, love. I'm so sick of hearing about love!"

"And what is so wrong with love?" Serena's voice rose to meet his.

"Oh, please. Love in this land is a joke. A guy sees a pretty face and is head over heels. 'She smiled at me, we must be meant to be together.' 'She can spin straw into gold, she must be the one.' 'Our parents want us to marry, so she must be the love of my life,'" he mimicked sarcastically, climbing to his feet and kicking the daggers away. "Well it doesn't always work that way!"

Serena's furiously beating heart began to slow, the redness ebbing from her face.

"Lord, don't look at me that way," Endymion growled, pacing around the room. "He's my brother. Of course I want him to be happy. I want all of them to be happy."

"You deserve to be happy too, Endymion."

He paused, fuming, before slowly turning to face her and allowing a crooked smile to make its way over his lips. "Yeah, that would just make your day, wouldn't it?"

Serena flushed. "Excuse me?"

"You seem to be on this mad crusade to make us all fall in love. First Nephlite and the scullery maid—"

"Lita's a chef."

"—and now you're pitching poor delusional Zoicite, newly blinded, mind you, against a witch. What are you going to do to me, Serena? Poison me with some love potion on my wedding day? Lock me up until I concede to try and break her curse?"

"You've only met Briar Rose once, and were you even old enough to remember? How do you know she's not—"

"The One?" Endymion laughed. "Let me ask you, Serena, have you ever felt it? This passionate romance you believe so strongly in?"

Serena gaped. "Look around you! How can you possibly not believe in it when it's everywhere. Your parents, Malachite and Mina—"

"I asked about you."

Serena gulped, staring up at his forebodingly serious gaze.

"I know what love is," she finally whispered, lowering her gaze.

"You're lucky then. I don't."

"Perhaps you choose not to."

"Perhaps." Endymion peered at her through tousled bangs a moment, before sighing and pacing to a window, staring out at a darkening sky. "You asked me earlier what I would do in Zoicite's position. If I had only one chance to find my true love, would I let it slip through my fingers? Well, no, Serena, I wouldn't." He chuckled wryly. "Instead, I would take that chance in my hand and throw it as far as I could, then run like hell in the other direction. Love is more trouble, and more pain, than it's worth."

Serena's throat went dry. It was the most cynical and dismissive view on love she had ever heard.

She shook her head. "You pretend to be brave, Prince Endymion, but only a true coward would be so terrified of the most beautiful thing in the world." His eyes flashed but she could not tell with what emotion. She sighed. "You may look, and talk, and act like the Darien I knew back home, but I see now you cannot possibly be him. He would never run away from love." She said it uncertainly, thinking back to the ever-popular Darien Shields—who never had a girlfriend.

"Then go back to him," Endymion muttered, interrupting her thoughts, "And leave us alone."

Silently, Serena left the room, the plate of food still on the floor. An hour later, the plate was empty.

* * *

_Please review._


	13. The Witch Sisters

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 13: The Witch Sisters  
_They saw a beautiful snow-white bird sitting on a bough.  
It flew away, and they followed it until they reached a little house  
that was built of bread and covered with cakes and sugar.  
_from Hansel and Gretel

"The tower is gone, isn't it?" Zoicite asked, his wavering voice just above a whisper. Serena looked at his bandaged eyes sadly, then turned back to the field before them. Zoicite had brought them there directly, his loss of sight seeming not to have affected his sense of direction, or perhaps it was some sort of intuitive magnetism to this spot. Throughout their journey, which had begun before dawn and lasted into late afternoon, the prince had acted as though he was attached to an invisible string pulling him steadily forward. But now, standing on the edge of a thorn-filled meadow, the string had evaporated and Zoicite stood looking lost and weary.

"There's nothing here," Jadeite confirmed quietly. "Only a big field with a lot of thorns."

"I bet these thorns are familiar," Endymion said, walking forward. He reached into their branches and pulled free a scrap of blue cloth. "I found part of your cloak."

Zoicite hardly seemed to hear him. He turned his head side to side as if listening for something no one else could hear. Inhaling a deep breath, he raised his face toward the sky. "Is there a path?"

"Yes," Seiya responded, taller than any of the other companions. "It leads to the center of the thorns, then disappears."

"Take me there."

Holding onto Zoicite's elbow, Serena followed Seiya toward the path, the group followed behind them. The little trail took them to an open space untouched by the briars. It was large and round and bare, as if it had not been an open space for long. Of course, they all recognized immediately that it had not.

Gently shaking Serena away from him, Zoicite left his friends and walked into the center. The dirt was hard and compact beneath his feet. With a loud sigh, he collapsed to his knees in the center of it. His fingers dug at the dirt, feeling the compact grains beneath his nails. Filled with anguish, he sat hunched over and silent. No one dared to approach him or break the spell of his pain, and so they stood uncomfortably watching.

Finally, Zoicite leaned back, his face to the sun again. "It's far past noon," he said in a broken voice. "We should eat lunch. I'm sure you're all famished."

"We can go back to the horses," Jadeite suggested, gesturing toward the forest where they had left the animals. "If you don't want to stay here."

Shaking his head, Zoicite murmured, "No, this will be fine. It's as good a place for a picnic as any."

Qualakig and Gralogwid, having carried the food packs on the journey, began setting out different cheeses, olives, and cured meats. The dwarfs had filled the morning ride with lighthearted jokes and banter, but Zoicite's remorse seemed to have left them speechless with sympathy. Soon, the other companions joined them in the dirt circle and began sharing a meal that was tasteless, flavored only with disappointment.

Not long after they had started eating, a small blue and yellow sparrow flittered down to a thorn branch beside them and sang a sweet song. Zoicite turned toward it, carefully setting down the cheese he had been nibbling as the bird hopped down to the dirt and twittered again. The light voice, though chipper, seemed to ring with a distinct question, and a sad smile crept onto Zoicite's face.

"It's wondering where the tower is," he mused. "And where the angel with the pretty singing voice has gone."

After a quiet moment, Gralogwid leaned over to Jadeite and muttered beneath his breath, "Has 'e always been able to talk to animals?"

Jadeite bit his tongue against a laugh and did not answer.

The bird skipped forward cautiously, landing on the ground before Zoicite. Gralogwid tensed, fingering an axe that hung at his belt.

"Careful, there, Master Zinfandel. Could be an enchantment," he growled beneath his breath.

"Don't be silly," said Zoicite, holding a finger toward the bird as it sang again. "It's just a poor, lonesome thing." Cooing confidently, Zoicite gestured at the bird, who flew up and perched on his finger. "See, it's quite friendly."

The dwarf growled skeptically, but withdrew his hand from the weapon.

Smiling, Zoicite brought the bird up to eye-level. "I know, little bird. You're wondering where the beautiful girl has gone and why she won't sing with you anymore. I miss her, too. I've lost her, too." The bird tilted its head and chirped a tune, then left his finger and flew back into the thorns. Zoicite sighed wistfully. "I'll never see her again."

Serena was about to encourage him not to give up hope, but Seiya's hand on her shoulder stopped her. He shook his head sadly and she lost her words, lowering her gaze. Silently, she relinquished that perhaps at times it was best to lose the hope. Of course, she knew that he and Rapunzel were meant to be together. But in the story, the prince wandered for years before he found her again, living a poor and miserable life. Seiya's forte was tragedy. Perhaps she needed to let time take its course. Perhaps the pain was necessary before the love and happy ending. She licked the juices from a ripe peach off of her fingers and threw the seed into the bushes.

"We should head back. If we're going to have to make camp we'll need to find some decent shelter."

The group nodded their consent and gathered their things. The bird chirped furiously a moment, then fluttered down to peck at the leftover crumbs.

"Goodbye, bird," Zoicite said, the hint of a smile on his lips. "I hope you find another friend." But as they walked down the path toward the wood, the bird followed them, singing its thanks for the snack.

Jadeite laughed, responding to Zoicite's statement with, "Perhaps it's found one in you."

"Go on, bird. Go back to your nest. . . . You don't suppose his nest was on the tower, do you?" Zoicite asked to no one in particular.

"I'm sure the bird will be fine," Endymion said, leading the band to the horses. When they reached them, he offered a hand to Serena to help her up, which she gratefully accepted. Looking into his eyes, she'd expected to see anger and annoyance at this wild goose chase that she was sure, in his mind, was completely her fault. However, his face was uneasy and filled with melancholy, the sadness of the moment having affected even him. She thanked him softly as she settled into the saddle. Without responding, he turned and easily mounted his own chocolate-brown mare.

When they'd all been comfortably seated, except for the dwarfs who preferred to have their feet firmly on the ground, Serena noticed the bird still singing to them. It had perched itself on an overhanging branch over Zoicite's shoulder.

"Perhaps it intends to follow us home," Andrew suggested.

"No, it will soon tire of following us," Zoicite said and spurred his horse. He and the elf shared the animal, Andrew holding the reigns.

The bird did follow them, however, flittering ahead down the path. It would land and sing until they caught up before skipping ahead again. Serena found the noise cheerful and calming, but soon noticed Endymion frowning in its direction. Forcing the horse to a trot, she rode up beside him. "What's wrong?" she asked in a hushed voice.

"I'm beginning to wonder if Gralogwid was right. There's something suspicious about that bird."

As if in response, the bird twittered innocently, then flew ahead again. Endymion followed it with his eyes. It landed in the center of a forked trail, pecking at something in the dirt. As the horses approached, it skittered to the right, out of their line of vision.

"What do you think it could be?"

Endymion shrugged. "You're the expert on this land's oddities. You tell me."

Frowning, Serena racked her brain for the many stories in which animals talked, whispering hints to good hunters and helpless children, or when humans had been transformed into birds by some enchantment, but these were almost always swans or crows. She could think of no mention of an enchanted blue and yellow sparrow.

"Well, whatever might be unusual about it, I suppose we aren't going to find out," she said, gesturing in the direction it had gone. "It's going the wrong way."

Endymion grunted suspiciously.

As they neared the fork, the bird came back into view. It pecked again at the trail, then sang and turned its head, looking up at them through its round black eyes.

"What has it found?" Jadeite asked from behind, then explained to Zoicite how it had stopped in the middle of the trail. Seeing that all eyes were on it, the bird flew a few feet farther and pecked again.

Leaving Seiya's shoulder, where she had comfortably perched, Hota fluttered down to the bird. It hopped away, eyeing the fairy speculatively.

"Breadcrumbs," Hota said, hovering in the air above the trail. "A whole slew of them down this trail. I don't see an end to them." Turning, she stared directly at Serena. Seiya and Andrew looked at her as well.

"A trail of breadcrumbs," she whispered to herself, then sighed.

"How terribly fascinating," Endymion mumbled sarcastically. "I'm so glad that mystery is solved. Now let's go home."

The bird twittered, hopping to the next crumb as Endymion urged his mare down the opposite trail. When Serena didn't follow, he looked back with an agitated glare.

"What?" he muttered, noticing her distraught gaze.

Serena pulled on a lock of her hair. "You all go on ahead. There's something I need to check out."

"What do you mean?" Endymion growled, all signs of sadness gone from his face. "Where are you going?"

"This way. Don't worry, I'll be fine," she said, turning her horse down the path that the bird had taken.

"Of course she'll be fine. We're going with her. Seiya? Andrew?" Hota landed on Seiya's shoulder again and he silently turned his horse to follow Serena.

Andrew turned to Zoicite over his shoulder. "My apologies, Prince Zoicite. You would be better served riding with one of your brothers from here on."

The prince only shook his head, though. "No, I'll come too. The bird came to me. Perhaps it's trying to tell me something."

"Or perhaps it's just a bird who has stumbled on a very convenient dinner," Endymion growled, contradicting his previous suspicions.

"Endymion's probably right," said Serena. "I'll just be a minute. You all go on ahead and I'll catch up."

Stubbornly shaking his head, Zoicite rubbed a finger over his eyes' bandages. "No, I will come with you. I am in no hurry to return to the castle."

"Then we're comin' too!" bellowed Qualakig. "Promised we'd get you home safely, Zoy-Boy. Can't very well leave you now." Gralogwid grunted his agreement.

Endymion moaned disgustedly, running a hand through his hair. Jadeite looked at each of his brothers, smiling. "What do you say, Endymion? Can't very well leave him all alone with these fools, can we?"

Sighing, Endymion rolled his eyes up toward the canopy of trees. "No, I guess we can't."

They followed the bird for nearly a mile as it skipped from crumb to crumb. Even when it became full and stopped nibbling at the free snack, it continued down the path, always a few feet in front of them. Conversation became sparse and with Endymion sulking at the end of their line, Serena felt little desire to talk to anyone else. At first she was preoccupied with watching the bird and the breadcrumbs, thinking of two helpless children bravely wandering the woods together, and stumbling onto a dangerous candy house…

But the trek was so long that eventually Serena could dream of the famous tale of Hansel and Gretel no longer and instead found herself enjoying the ride. She relished the feel of the horse's strong muscles beneath her. Having been raised in the city, her experience with riding had been limited to merry-go-rounds and $5 pony rides at the annual carnival. Despite her inexperience, though, she found that she took to the practice quite easily. The horse was well-behaved and required little prompting on her behalf. Despite some aching in her thighs, she enjoyed the experience. Smiling whimsically, she closed her eyes, listening to the bird's singing in her ears and feeling the spotted sun spattering on her skin when it could escape the forest's canopy above. Now, more than any other time of her entire adventure in this strange land, did she feel like she was truly in a fairy tale. How could these woods not be enchanted?

Opening her eyes, she looked over her shoulder. Prince Endymion was looking at her, as if searching for something he expected to find in her features, but he turned quickly away and Serena scanned the rest of the group and pretended not to notice that he'd been watching her. An awkward blush flooded her cheeks.

"What's that?" Andrew asked. Serena quickly turned and followed his pointing finger to see a spot of bright colors through the trees.

"It looks like a house," said Jadeite.

Serena gulped, her suspicions confirmed at the sight of a sugar plum chimney and candy cane gate. "We should leave the horses here," she advised, urging her horse to stop and sliding carefully out of the saddle. The rest followed and Jadeite set about tying up the animals.

"Strangest house I ever saw," Endymion muttered, glaring at the cottage with unbridled distrust.

"It seems to be made of candy," Andrew clarified for Zoicite, who was sniffing curiously at the air.

"Do I smell something baking?" he asked.

"Maybe it's the walls. Is that gingerbread?"

"No, it smells more like . . ."

Serena held her breath. Though she could smell nothing, she was sure that Zoicite's senses had heightened with the loss of his sight. She thought of the story, Hansel and Gretel, and the evil witch who planned to bake the children in her oven for supper and shuddered. What would baking children smell like?

"...muffins," Zoicite concluded. "Blueberry, I think."

Serena exhaled, certain that baked children would not smell like blueberries.

"Well, are we going to knock?" Jadeite asked. One could almost see the drool forming in his mouth as he took in licorice window panes and a solid chocolate door.

The sparrow began singing again, but it was no longer the cheerful chirping from before, but harsh, warning whistles. Endymion's frown deepened. "This was a bad idea. We should leave."

"Are you kidding? A house made of candy?" Jadeite chuckled. "I think this is the best idea we've had in a long time."

Shaking his head, Endymion unconsciously slid his fingers over the hilt of his sword. "Something feels wrong about this place. Something eerie."

"Endymion is right," said Serena. "I don't think we're going to get the warmest welcome inside that house. Besides, I'm the one who wanted to come, so I'm going to go in—alone."

"Are you _crazy_?" Endymion exploded. Serena shot him a harsh glare, forcing his anger to wither into brooding silence.

"You don't have to yell. And yes, maybe I am crazy. But I'm getting sick of you asking me that."

"Listen, Serena, you are the most defenseless of anyone here, save maybe the talking butterfly over there."

"Hey! Who are you calling defenseless?" Hota protested. "I have many powers you are unaware of, young prince. Never take a fairy too lightly. Besides—these are dragonfly wings, not butterfly."

Endymion rolled his eyes, but before he could retort, Serena held up her hands, begging for quiet again. "This is perfect," she said as optimistically as she could. "I'll take Hota with me. She's small and can hide in my pocket. No one will know she's there, plus she can get out quickly. You can all cover me from out here, and if Hota comes out of that house without me, you'll know I'm in trouble and need your help." She nodded decisively, proud of her quickly-formed plan.

Endymion opened his mouth to refute her, but she clamped her hand over it. "Don't argue. We can't go charging up there with nine people. I'll be fine. And you'll be right out here if I need you."

He glared as she removed her hand. "You're not telling us something. You haven't explained why you brought us here, and you didn't seem at all surprised to find a house made of candy in the middle of nowhere. In fact, you almost act as though you expected it. What exactly do you expect to find in there, Serena?"

She glanced back at the house and shrugged. "I'm hoping to find blueberry muffins." Ignoring Endymion's further exasperation, she gestured to Hota and started toward the cottage with the fairy perched on her shoulder.

Before she raised her hand to knock, Hota climbed into her cloak's inner pocket, unhappily but without complaint. Glancing over her shoulder, Serena could see no sign of her companions but knew they were there, watching.

"Well, come in, child."

She gasped, looking back at the chocolate door. Hota peered up at her from the darkness of the pocket and shrugged. With a deep breath and shaking hand, Serena reached for the knob—what she assumed was bubblegum.

Inside, the house was completely different than she had imagined. There was only one room. A bed sat in the far corner, covered in an old calico quilt. Beside it were a rocking chair and a small table with an oil lamp. To her right were a stone fireplace and an iron grill and stove. Serena could now smell the muffins Zoicite had mentioned, but there was absolutely no sign of any sweets or candy. Even the chocolate door she'd walked through appeared wooden on the inside. In the middle of the room was a round table set with fruits, nuts, and a basket of cut greens, and surrounded by four small wooden chairs. Two of the chairs were occupied by two women who looked like they should have withered away to nothing years ago.

"Take a seat," one woman said in a voice that was much gentler than her pointed, bird-like face.

Serena cautiously complied, lowering herself into one of the wooden chairs, her eyes roving from woman to woman. She had not expected there to be two of them. The story never mentioned a second witch.

The woman that had spoken pushed the bowl of fruit—almost overflowing in nectarines, berries, and mangoes—toward Serena. "Eat, child, please." At Serena's wary look, the woman flashed a yellowed smile. "It keeps people from nibbling at my house."

Forcing an uncomfortable laugh, Serena began to nibble on a cherry, discovering it to be seedless and surprisingly delicious. She helped herself to another.

"Would your friend like anything?"

Serena froze mid-bite, a stem hanging between her lips and fingers. Forcing herself to swallow a lump of cherry caught at the base of her throat, she tried to smile. "Friend?"

"The little winged one." The woman gestured at the pocket where Hota hid.

Setting the stem on the table, Serena wiped her fingers on her cloak, knowing the uselessness of denial, yet feeling obligated to try. However, she was saved from making that decision as Hota crawled out from the shadows with an exaggerated sigh.

"No, I'm fine, thank you," she said politely, smoothing the wrinkles out from her purple dress.

The woman who had spoken shrugged as Hota sat cross-legged on the table.

"Suit yourself. Dear me, where are my manners? I am Zoe, and this is my sister, Chloe. It's a delight to have so much company on this pretty day. I hardly ever have visitors."

Serena and Hota smiled politely, but neither offered their names in return. The woman didn't seem to notice, or care.

"Perhaps you would prefer a muffin instead of the fruit? They should be about done. Chloe, would you mind pulling those out?"

"Not at all." Chloe removed her suspicious eyes from Serena and pushed herself away from the table. Although her body appeared frail and weak, she strode to the stove with grace. Her posture seemed suited for a queen and was only beginning to betray her age with the slightest unnatural curve between her neck and shoulders.

Serena's attention snapped away from Chloe as her sister began speaking again.

"Perhaps your other friends would like muffins as well?"

Feeling her palms starting to sweat, Serena hid them beneath her cloak and forced her voice to remain steady. "Friends?"

"Indeed, child. I believe I heard . . . six others?"

Clasping her fingers together, Serena scrolled through the list of her companions in her head as the fresh scent of blueberries and batter dove into her nostrils. _Three princes, two guardians, and two dwarfs _she thought. _Seven. There are seven of them. She must have heard the horses, since Zoicite and Andrew were sharing one._

"Yes, six others. But I don't believe they were hungry."

"Well, why don't you invite them in and let them answer for their own stomachs? You may be surprised at the appetite one can work up in this place." She grinned knowingly as Serena's stomach erupted in a growl. "Or perhaps you wouldn't be surprised at all." She cackledas Serena lowered her head embarrassedly.

They had eaten only a short time ago. How could she possible be hungry already? But the answer did not elude her long as the classic story of Hansel and Gretel crept into her thoughts again. Zoe must be trying to fatten her up, as she did all children. _Perhaps the house is cursed. Cursed to induce hunger._

Her musing was extinguished by a loud thump and what sounded like a whimper. She looked at the wood-planked floor in surprise but saw nothing.

"The rats!" Zoe squealed, clasping her hands together before bursting again into hysterical cackling.

"Eat, child," Chloe commanded, practically slamming a tray of muffins in front of Serena. They were still steaming, the berries black and oozing reminded her of open wounds. Serena, who usually loved blueberry muffins, thought she might be sick.

"Eat," Chloe repeated, and Serena caught a glimpse of jagged, urine-colored teeth. The drool that had earlier accumulated in her mouth turned sour and she swallowed hard, looking again at the muffins. "And we'll go fetch your friends." Chloe moved away and Serena gasped for the breath she hadn't realized she'd lost.

Turning in her chair, she opened her mouth—to scream a warning to the others or to call the witches back, she wasn't sure. But just as Chloe reached the door, Zoe right behind her, Hota landed on Serena's shoulder.

"Chosen One," she whispered fervently into her ear. "The floor! Over by the beds! Look!"

Praying that her companions were still well-hidden, Serena tore her gaze from the old women as they stepped into the daylight. She immediately saw what Hota had indicated: a small, closed door, two by two feet, cut out of the floorboards.

* * *

Endymion checked that his sword was loose in its scabbard. Wiping his sweaty palms on his tunic, he turned to look at his companions. Andrew was tending the horses, making sure they kept quiet, Zoicite sat with one ear cocked toward the wind, and the rest were watching the cottage anxiously. 

Endymion growled beneath his breath and began pacing back and forth. "This is absurd!" he hissed. One of the dwarfs shushed him, but he only raised his voice. "They could be in danger in there! What if something happened and neither of them could get out? We need to go make sure they're okay. Are we just going to sit here all day, _assuming _that everything's fine?"

"Endymion, have a little faith," Jadeite muttered, shoving berries that he had scavenged into his mouth. "Hota could make it out if anything was amiss, and Serena seems like the kind of girl who could talk her way out of a dragon's mouth. Just give them a little time."

"How much time does it take for a dragon to devour its prey, exactly?" he spat.

"Hush, I hear something," Zoicite interrupted. They all turned to the cottage to see the front door being thrown open and two old women stepping into the sunlight.

"Where's Serena?" Endymion whispered to himself. "If they did anything to her…"

"Oh, woods people," one woman, the shorter of the two, called. "Won't you come join us for lunch? We have some lovely muffins, fresh from the oven."

The companions exchanged glances. Endymion was the first to answer to the invitation as he stood up and walked fearlessly into the clearing, his hand poised at his sword's hilt.

Clapping a hand onto Zoicite's shoulder, Jadeite whispered, "Wait here," and went to join his other brother. The rest of the group followed suit and the two old women soon found themselves facing three princes, two guardians, and two dwarfs.

Zoe's grin widened. "And what a feast ye shall make."

"Where's Serena?" Endymion asked gruffly.

"And Hota," added Andrew.

"Oh, they're right inside, enjoying some delicious muffins," said Chloe. "They were done just in time for your visit. Just in time to make room in the oven." She chortled lowly and her sister's lips stretched tightly over her teeth in a horrid grin. "But dear me, it's such a very little oven, how can I fit… er… feed six grown men such as yourselves?" She exchanged a wicked smile with her companion, who raised her hands, fingers outstretched.

"Ah, I have the perfect solution."

A cloud of smoke erupted from Zoe's hands, immediately followed by an iridescent black chain that shot out and spun around Andrew, faster than eyes could follow. Once it faded away, Andrew was gone; in his place stood a raven, onyx-black, with bright green eyes and white-tipped wings.

* * *

Serena searched desperately for a handle to the hidden door in the floorboards but could find nothing, nor could she get her fingers far enough into the cracks to lift it. Growling, she pounded at it with her fists to no avail. 

She thought she heard a muffled scream for help and forced herself to try again, digging her nails into the opening until she felt a splinter lodge itself into the soft skin. She yelped and pulled away with a furious cry. "How do you _open _this thing?" she screeched, kicking at it with her heel. "There isn't even a hinge!"

"Stand back," commanded Hota. "Maybe it's magic."

Serena backed away, grateful to hand momentary responsibility to the guardian, and looked at her finger. The tiny wood shard was lodged deep beneath her nail and she clenched her teeth and hoped it wouldn't become infected, then turned her attention back to the fairy.

Hota perched in the center of the trap door and turned around a few times, surveying the cottage. "It is enchanted. I can feel a spell, a locking spell, I think. Which means there's a key somewhere…" she trailed off, her tiny lips turning into a frown and her brow pulling down. "But where?"

Serena scanned the near-empty room, then shook her head. "Nothing looks very enchanted to me. Well, except for the whole candy thing. What does a locking spell look like?"

* * *

Endymion and Jadeite drew their swords, Gralogwid and Qualakig their axes, and charged the witches. Zoe only cackled and a moment later, two more ravens stood in the places of Jadeite and Gralogwid. Chloe side-stepped Qualakig's attack and sighed disinterestedly as her sister sent the black chain toward the remaining prince. He swung at it with his sword but it only sliced through air and with an anguished scream, Endymion felt the chain tighten around his body. 

Zoe smirked at the fourth raven with ebony-black feathers and furious blue eyes and turned to see her old sister dodging the red-haired dwarf's attacks like a gymnast. With a flick of her hand, Zoe turned Qualakig into a raven and winked gleefully.

Chloe did not return the look, but glanced over her ally's shoulder with a glare.

Zoe turned just in time to see Seiya's sword, aimed at her heart, turn into a red vine. His expression betrayed no surprise and his attack immediately changed to a swing. Zoe screeched in pain as the whip of licorice collided with her cheek. She clapped a hand to her stinging face.

"_Candy, _Chloe?" she wailed.

Her sister shrugged unapologetically.

Growling, Zoe raised her hands and just as Seiya prepared for another swing, the black chain wrapped around his chest. A moment later, another raven—the blackest of them all—joined his five companions squawking in the meadow.

* * *

"The oven!" Hota cried, pointing. "It's got to be around there!" 

Serena turned and looked at the stove. "Are you sure?" she asked nervously.

"Yes. Quickly!"

"What exactly am I looking for?" Serena asked as she lunged toward the iron stove. She peered around it, holding her hands nervously to her chest.

"I'm not sure. Anything out of the ordinary. What's wrong? You look like it's going to bite you."

"It's just… how many kids do you think have been put into this oven?"

Hota rolled her eyes. "There's going to be more than a couple kids in it if you don't hurry up!"

Serena sighed and reached for the handle, still warm from the muffins.

* * *

Chloe dusted her hands on her apron. "We're getting helpless in our old age, Zoe. Can barely take on six humans alone anymore. Terrible shame." 

"Three humans. You're getting your races mixed up again."

"Bah, they're all the same."

"And _you _barely helped at all. Licorice. Honestly!"

Her sister ignored her and admired the birds in her yard. "They'll all make lovely eating, won't they? Mm… raven stew, baked raven, raven biscuits…" Chloe's hungry list was cut short by a sharp intake of breath from her sister. She turned toward her, frowning.

"What is it?"

Her only response was a painful gurgling in Zoe's throat. As Chloe watched, a dribble of blood escaped the woman's lips and she fell forward onto her knees, then collapsed to the grass. A long arrow jutted up from between her shoulder blades.

Chloe screamed, calling her sister's name in fear and surprise, then looked up toward the trees. There stood another man with long, wavy blonde hair, bandages wrapped around his eyes, and a bow in his hands with another arrow already cocked. "You!" she growled furiously as Zoe's blood pooled beneath her boots. Gathering her skirt in her fists, she stepped over her sister's gasping body and marched toward the blinded prince. Zoicite took a nervous step back, turning one ear toward her. His hand began to shake on the bow's string.

Chloe cackled. "I don't know how you made that lucky shot, boy, but you're not feeling so confident now, are you?" she hissed, and raised her crooked fingers toward him as magic cackled at their tips.

Zoicite steadied his feet, clenched his jaw, and let the arrow fly.

* * *

_Please review._


	14. Reunited

Thanks to Phantasy Star for editing and all reviewers!

Sorry for the long wait - it's been a buuuuuusy month. Enjoy!

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 14: Reunited  
_Rapunzel knew him and fell on his neck and wept. Two of her tears wetted  
his eyes and they grew clear again, and he could see with them as before._  
from Rapunzel

Zoicite's arrow skimmed Chloe's shoulder, leaving a tear in her dress and a bead of blood. She cackled.

"For your blind ignorance, I think I'll make blackbird pie out of you," she hissed and raised her hands. A cloud of black smoke formed around her fingers. Zoicite reached for another arrow, backing away. His foot collided with a stone and he stumbled back onto the dirt. The arrow fell from his grip as he struggled to climb back to his feet.

Chloe laughed again, gleefully.

"Not if we make pie out of you first!" yelled Hota from the chocolate doorway.

Chloe turned to the fairy in time to see a stream of orange light hurtling toward her. It collided with her chest and her momentary screech faded into the silence of the clearing. Her short, round body had become that of a short, round pumpkin.

Hota fluttered her violet wings proudly as the six birds in the yard began to glow and morph back to their human, or elfin, or dwarfish forms. Serena marched out of the house, avoiding the puddle of Zoe's blood that was beginning to sink into the earth, and picked up the pumpkin by its thick stem.

"I know just what to do with this," she stated, returning to the house where a little boy and girl stood holding open the oven door. Serena popped the pumpkin in, the door was shut, and they all grinned at a job well done.

In the yard, Jadeite shook his head, trying to rid himself of the leftover feelings of the enchantment. "I always thought it would be fun to be a bird, but I think I'm over it."

Zoicite, panting from exertion, heard someone calling his name. He sat upright, his head whipping from side to side. "Amy?"

Everyone in the clearing turned to see a beautiful girl with cropped, ragged blue hair running out of the forest toward the blinded prince.

"Yes, it's me!" she said, laughing, though her eyes were worried as she collapsed to her knees beside Zoicite.

"Amy! How… why… Is it really you? How did you get here?"

"I've been here. I've been following you. Or, more, you've been following me." She reached up her hands and lovingly soothed down Zoicite's long blonde hair. "Oh, my poor prince," she murmured, running a hand along the blindfold. "Look what that witch has done to you."

He reached up and grabbed her hands, grinning, his own injuries forgotten at the sound of her voice. "Amy, I don't understand. You're safe? You're all right?"

"I'm fine. The worst she did to me was turn me into a bird," she laughed lyrically, bringing Zoicite's hands to her lips and kissing his knuckles. "Not like what she did to you."

"You were the sparrow! You brought us here."

She nodded. "Yes, that was me. And you've killed that witch and broken my curse, even blinded. You're far braver than any story prince I've ever read about."

Zoicite lowered his head as a blush crept into his cheeks, but Amy quickly lifted it again with a finger beneath his chin. "May I see the harm she's done to you?" she whispered and began untying the blindfold without waiting for a response. Zoicite didn't argue, entranced by the feelings of her gentle fingers brushing against his skin and hair. A moment later she pulled away the makeshift scarf and unwrapped the bandages beneath, revealing the gashes and swollen scars across his lids. Though the caked blood and scabs and blackened bruises were horrifying to see, Amy didn't even flinch. She ran a finger lovingly across his closed eyes. "Oh, my prince," she murmured, leaning forward and brushing her lips against each one, before wrapping her arms around him and cradling his head against her neck.

Zoicite tied his arms tightly around her waist. "I'll be all right," he said, and his voice was filled with nothing but ecstasy. "I have my life. I've found you again. The only part that saddens me is that I will never again look into your beautiful blue eyes." Pulling slightly out of her embrace, he reached up and cupped her face in his hands, tilting her face toward him. "But no matter. I've already memorized their color."

Amy smiled as two tears slipped from her eyes and ran down her pale cheeks. They were part sorrow at seeing her beloved in pain, but mostly joy at being beside him again and looking into his face—which, though scarred, remained beautiful in her gaze.

The tears crept slowly down and dripped from her chin, splashing onto Zoicite face, one into each blinded eye. And where they landed, the bruises and dried blood disappeared, as if nothing more than dirt washed away. Amy gasped, watching the swelling subside and scarring fade away, the bruised complexion become once again fair and flawless. It spread seamlessly across his lids, his brow, his cheeks. Then Zoicite's eyes fluttered open, his lashes long and black and his green irises clear and shining as he looked up at her.

They stared at each other in awe and a charmed silence settled over the glen.

Finally, a long moment later, Zoicite smiled, brushed away the remaining trails of tears on Amy's face, and whispered, "Marry me."

She laughed and suddenly her tears were falling too fast for Zoicite to brush away. Neither cared. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his hair. "All right," she breathed. "All right."

Slowly, the rest of the group began to turn away, feeling that as the magic of the moment faded, they were stuck watching something that should be very private. The two dwarfs, Gralogwid and Qualakig, looked more embarrassed than any of them and they frowned deeply to hide the blushes that were forming behind their beards. Looking back toward the house, Gralogwid noticed Serena standing there holding the hands of a little boy and a little girl.

"Oy, looks like you've picked up a couple o' stragglers there, Miss Rena."

Grateful for the diversion, the group quickly turned to the two children who, though looking strong and proud a moment ago, immediately shrank back behind Serena under the stares of so many unknown faces.

But Serena only smiled, her heart light and giddy from watching Zoicite and Amy's reunion. "Meet Hansel and Gretel," she said, coaxing them out from behind her legs.

The children were spitting images of each other, both with large green eyes, soot-covered faces, and shaggy blonde hair, only Gretel's was worn up in a handkerchief while Hansel's fell messily around his ears. They were both plump and healthy-looking, but dressed in the ragged clothes of beggar children.

"Can't leave 'em here, can we?" asked Qualakig gruffly, but as Gretel's large doe eyes met his, he frowned uncomfortably and shuffled his feet. "A'right, we can bring 'em to Whitey."

"She does 'ave a thing for lit'le people," added Gralogwid with a toothy grin and the dwarfs chuckled to themselves. Hansel and Gretel exchanged small, quiet smiles and wrapped their arms around Serena's legs.

"Good," she said. "That's settled. Now let's get this show on the road before this gingerbread starts growing mold!"

* * *

"We're turning into a regular caravan, aren't we?" Endymion joked as he lifted Hansel onto his horse before climbing up behind the boy.

Serena, now sharing a horse with Andrew, laughed amusedly and glanced behind her, watching as Jadeite assisted Gretel into his saddle and Amy and Zoicite got comfortable on their own mount. "We should have brought more horses."

"Ah, the wonder of having wings," Hota teased, patiently waiting on a tree limb while the group sorted out riding arrangements.

"More like the wonder of being six inches tall," said Andrew. "You know you're going to end up on my shoulder anyway."

She shrugged noncommittally.

"Everyone set?" Endymion interrupted, surveying the group and noticing for the first time the camaraderie that was evident in how they talked and acted toward each other. In less than a day it seemed as though this small (but ever-growing) group had gained more trust in each other than any hunting party he'd ever been with. He glanced at Serena, who was leaning toward his own horse, finger-combing Gretel's hair out of her face, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling at her.

Sure, the expedition had been for Zoicite and Amy, but he knew it was all because of Serena. Though he still thought she'd been crazy—that they'd all been crazy—to undergo such a quest, it had turned out all right in the end. He almost felt guilty for doubting her.

Shaking his head, he gave his horse's reigns a shake and spurred him off down the trail. The dwarfs quickly took the lead, meandering through the forest without looking at all lost. Endymion was surprised most at the trust he'd developed for the two miniature companions. Normally in these situations he wanted to be in complete control, but now he was comfortable letting himself be led toward their new destination. He didn't feel tired—if anything the adventure with the witches had invigorated him—but he did feel content as the forest leaves crackled beneath the horse's hooves and the birds sang merrily in the canopy above.

They traveled through the evening without incident, stopping only once to devour the leftovers from their picnic. Though enough rations had been packed to keep the original company satisfied for two days, the food was dwindling fast with the newcomers. Hansel and Gretel, wanting anything but sweets, were especially delighted with plain old white bread and fresh peaches.

Endymion was about to suggest they look for a place to set up camp when a distant sound caught his ear. The rest of the party heard it shortly afterwards and they paused their horses long enough to make it out. All except the two dwarfs, who spurred theirs on faster at the sound.

A moment later, Endymion heard Serena murmur beside him, "Is that whistling?"

And it was, the whistling of five different tunes with different notes and tempos, that somehow all combined into a strange and whimsical song when strung together. The noise boggled Endymion, and yet, all in all, he found it pleasant, as did the rest of the companions.

Then, the whistling was joined by two more songs, these coming from their very own dwarfish companions, and instantly Serena knew where, or who, the whistling was coming from.

She grinned and brought her horse to a steady trot. "It's the dwarfs!" she said to herself, laughing. "It's the seven dwarfs!" The group followed Serena without question and it wasn't long before the trail opened up into a larger dirt path and just around the bend came marching five short, bearded men carrying mining tools and whistling merrily as the setting sun turned the forest orange and gold.

They nodded at Serena and her companions as they passed by, never pausing in their song, and Gralogwid and Qualakig immediately dismounted their horses and fell into line behind them, looking as though they'd never been separated in the first place.

"Do you think they know each other?" Jadeite joked, gracefully climbing off of his horse and taking it by the reigns. The rest of the party followed suit and soon found themselves whistling their own versions of the irresistible tune (all except for an irritated-looking Seiya).

The trek through the woods was lost in the song and it seemed as though Serena had barely blinked before a blanket of stars had taken over the twilight sky and a small cottage sat before them with a candle in each window guiding them home. Serena's breath caught and she stopped whistling. The little house exuded an aura of comfort and warmth. The small candlelight flickering across the yard and flowerboxes seemed to whisper, "Welcome home."

The others noticed, too, and their music slowly faded away. Just as the last note from the dwarf at the front of the line faded away into the forest, the cottage door swung open and out came a girl.

She was bathed from the light of the house as she stepped barefoot onto the cobblestone path and looked at the group with her hands on her hips. Her long hair was blacker than ebony, her skin was white as snow, and her lips were red as blood. She looked like a forest nymph, dressed in a simple muslin dress that cinched at the waist with a red ribbon. Her large eyes were almost as dark as her hair, but Serena thought that they glittered with as much light as the candles lighting the windows.

Expressionless, her gaze met that of each of the strangers, before turning with a teasing glance to each of the seven dwarfs in turn. "Well, boys," she said, her tone mocking, "it's one thing to bring home a poor, blinded prince, but it's quite another to bring home all of Aysel Kingdom!"

The dwarf at the front of the line grinned, showing a gap where one tooth was missing, and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Can't 'elp it. They followed us 'ome!"

The next dwarf hooked his thumbs behind his suspenders. "Can we keep 'em?"

Then the girl laughed and stepped aside. "Well they're here now, aren't they? Go get cleaned up, you're all a wreck. I'll see if I can scrounge up some more place settings. It's nice to have you home, Gralogwid, Qualakig, we've missed you. And Prince Zoicite—" She paused, her eyes sweeping over the smiling prince, seeing his fingers intertwined with those of a petite blue-haired girl, and his green eyes glittering back at her. "My, my, you look a world better than you did two days ago. Come in and make yourself comfortable, then you can introduce me to your friends."

With military precision, the dwarfs marched into the house and straight to the washroom while Snow White set about searching for more dishes to use for supper. After she'd had little luck, Serena informed her that they'd eaten on the road and weren't very hungry, in which case Snow White looked much relieved and dished up food only for the five dwarfs who had been in the mountains all day, and Hansel and Gretel, whose appetites were typical for growing children.

"Well, then! While they eat, why don't we go and sit in the den. This house wasn't built for so much company, but I hope you'll find it to be quite cozy," she said, ushering them into the next room where a fire was burning on the hearth.

They soon found places to sit, most of the companions collapsing tiredly on the bearskin rug in the center of the room, as seven of the eight chairs were too small to be comfortable anyway, and then Zoicite introduced each of his companions to Snow White, smiling fondly when he came to Amy and proudly announcing, "And this is Amy, my fiancé."

Amy smiled at him, her cheeks turning pink in the glow from the fire.

"And everyone, I'm pleased to introduce you to Snow White. She took me in and bandaged my eyes when I was lost and helpless."

Snow White was grinning from ear to ear. "Please, call me Raye. 'Snow White' is a name I've tried to leave behind in another life, with little success it seems." She tilted her head curiously at Zoicite, before adding, "And bandages I can do easily enough, but this," she said with a wave of her hand, "I could never. What's happened since I last saw you? I thought for sure you'd never see again!"

Zoicite related the whole story, from the time that he and his two dwarfish companions had set out for Aysel Castle, to discovering that the magic tower had disappeared, to the small bird who led them to the house of gingerbread, through the battle with the two witches, to how he had conquered Zoe and broken the curse, turning Amy and the others back into humans, and finally how Amy's tears had healed his eyesight.

"Magic tears," breathed Raye when he'd finished, smiling at Zoicite's shy fiancé, "how miraculous!"

Amy shook her head. "I'm afraid I don't know how or what I did, and I'm sure I'll never be able to do it again."

"Ah, but of course," Andrew said. "It was not magic tears that healed Master Zoicite, but rather the magic of her love for him. Such things are hardly unheard of in this land of ours."

"Very true," Hota agreed from Seiya's shoulder. "Magic works its way into all sorts of unbelievable situations. If you ask me, the whole sequence of events was rather predictable."

Serena wanted both to scowl and laugh. Predictable or not, it certainly hadn't been _easy._ But at that moment, she was feeling quite successful as Aysel's Chosen One.

"Well, I'm glad everything has worked out for you, and I wish you many long years of a happy marriage," Raye said, standing up to stoke the fire. "When will the wedding take place?"

"As soon as possible. We'll start out at dawn tomorrow and should reach the castle by early afternoon. I'm sure preparations can be made in order for us to have the wedding the following day."

"The following day!" exclaimed Raye. "That's a bit fast, isn't it?"

"We see no point in waiting. We discussed it on the way here. Of course, we'll have to obtain the necessary blessings and send out invitations, but the wonderful thing about Aysel is that people are always ready for a party. They'll take any reason to celebrate."

"Sounds like a lovely place to live," Raye said, but her little smile secretly confessed that she was perfectly content in her small, secluded cottage with her seven close companions.

"Raye," said Amy in her quiet voice, standing up with her fingers clasped as Raye leaned the fire stoker against the wall. "There was something else Zoicite and I talked about during our journey. We would like to offer you and all of your friends an informal invitation to the wedding. If the dwarfs hadn't found Zoicite and if you hadn't welcomed and healed him, he may have perished in the wilderness and this time for celebration would have instead been a time for mourning. We would be honored if you would join us."

Raye's surprised look slowly turned to an apologetic smile, but continued, "And while I know that everything is sudden and that we don't know each other well at all, I'd also like to ask you to be a bridesmaid."

"A bridesmaid?" Raye asked with an astonished laughed.

"It may sound strange, but the faces in this house are the only faces I've ever known in my entire life. I feel a bond with you all and hope that we may become close friends as the years go by. This is my way of offering you my gratitude and friendship." She turned to Serena, who was watching her with wide, excited eyes. "And Serena, I was hoping you would be my second maid. Your bravery and wisdom have also played an important part in this happy ending."

Serena could see Endymion rolling his eyes beside her, but she ignored him and beamed at Amy "Of course! I'd be delighted!"

Amy turned back to Raye, who was pursing her lips as if thinking it over, but her glowing eyes admitted that her decision had already been reached. Finally, she laughed and shrugged. "Oh, what can be the harm? I will only be gone a few days. The dwarfs can get along without me for such a short time."

"Aw, don't be goin' thinkin' like that, Paper White," Gralogwid snorted, picking a pipe up from one of the tables and filling it with dried leaves. "We've gotten too attached to you now, and I don' think we could survive a single day without ya."

"Now, don't say—"

"So, as I can see your mind is made up, we'll just have to come along, too."

"The mountains aren't goin' anywhere, are they?" Qualakig added. "An' didn't ya hear Bluebell over there? She's offered you and _all your friends_ an informal invitation."

"An' it's not every day we get to go to a royal weddin'."

Amy clapped her hands joyfully. "It's settled then!"

Endymion cleared his throat. "We do have a small dilemma concerning transportation, though. We only have seven horses, and that would make...eighteen of us."

"Not sure Butterfly counts, over there," Qualakig said, poking a fat finger at Hota's belly.

She squirmed with irritation and flew away to sit peacefully on Seiya's shoulder, who was watching the conversation with eminent boredom.

"Fine, seventeen. Our odds are hardly better."

"Ah, don' worry about that," said Gralogwid with a wave of his pipe. "We'll walk. Us dwarfs prefer to 'ave our feet firmly on the ground anyway."

"Here, here," came a chorus of gruff voices as the other five dwarfs appeared in the doorway, along with the children who were watching excitedly. Obviously the dwarfs had kept them entertained throughout the meal. They all shuffled in and made themselves comfortable.

"Ah, how polite of you to join us," Raye said sarcastically. "I'd like to introduce Gralogwid and Qualakig's brothers: Fiebrob, Wilopin, Boreetok, Vlonterp, and Kepple. Don't worry, no one expects you to remember any of those names."

After the rest of the group had been introduced to the dwarfs (who seemed to remember everyone's names with surprising accuracy), Zoicite returned the conversation to their previous dilemma by offering to share his horse with Amy again on the trek back to the castle.

"And I don't mind riding with Gretel," said Jadeite as the small girl climbed up into his lap. Raye looked at him, a little surprised—it was the first time he'd spoken all evening and she'd hardly noticed him in the swarm of all the new names and faces, but as he wrapped his arms around the little girl and smiled warmly, Raye couldn't help but grin back.

"And would Master Hansel like to ride with me?" she asked impulsively, smiling at Hansel as he sat down between two of his new dwarfish friends. But when he looked up at her, his goofy grin was ear to ear.

"Sure would, Miss."

"There, that's settled then. But first, warm baths all around!"

* * *

_Please review._


	15. A Comb in the Well

Thanks to all reviewers and Phantasy Star for editing!

This is one of my favorite chapters of the whole story. Hope you share my feelings for it!

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 15: A Comb in the Well  
_Snow White had no suspicion and let the old woman do  
as she pleased. But hardly had she put the comb in her hair than  
the poison in it took effect, and the girl fell down senseless. _from Snow White

The dwarfs' cottage was filled with music and laughter as Endymion slipped out of the front door in search for one companion who had disappeared. He found Serena sitting on a large rock near the forest edge, wrapped up in a giant quilt, her long blonde hair still damp from the bath. The night was warm and the moon coated the world in silver, but a single candle burning beside the girl surrounded her in an orange halo. She was analyzing her hand with a deep frown, leaning toward the flame with her brow drawn in concentration.

Endymion stepped on a branch to alert her of his approach and she glanced up at him. She smiled distractedly.

"What are you doing out here all by yourself?"

"Just enjoying the evening," she mumbled, then looked back down at her hand, obviously frustrated. "And trying to get this blasted splinter out of my hand. I got it when I was trying to get Hansel and Gretel out of that house. They were hidden in this tiny room underneath the floorboards, but the stupid door didn't have a handle or hinges or anything. It's one of those really bad splinters, too, up underneath my nail. It's been driving me crazy all day, and I can't get it out."

Joining her on the stone, Endymion held out his hand. "Let me see."

"No, I got it."

"No you don't. It could get infected. Let me see."

With a sigh, Serena gave him her hand and he held it toward the light from the candle, analyzing the wound for a second. "Ah, no problem," he said with a quirk of his lips and reached for a dagger in his belt.

Serena yanked her hand away. "What's that for?"

Laughing, Endymion pulled the hand back. "What do you think it's for? Hold still. I'm not going to hurt you."

She watched with wide eyes as he neared the tip of the blade toward her finger, gasping as the point gently prodded the sensitive skin around the splinter.

She yelped as a drop of blood formed on her finger. "Hey! What about not hurting me?"

Endymion rolled his eyes and rubbed the blood away with his thumb, taking the splinter away with it. "There, all better. Was that really so bad?"

Serena suspiciously held her hand up to her face. It did feel better. "I guess not. Thanks," she muttered.

He shrugged and tore off a square from his cloak, before pulling her hand back and quickly wrapping the makeshift bandage around it.

Serena smiled at the concentration in his deep blue eyes that reflected the candle's tiny flame. When he released her fingers, she self-consciously pulled her quilt tighter around her shoulders and watched as the prince latched his knife back on his belt. He raised his eyes to stare silently at the moon, which was little more than half-full.

"I'd forgotten about your doctor status. That's the second time you've helped heal me."

He shifted uncomfortably, his eyes glued to the silver moon. "Well, someone has to do it. And somehow I don't think those dwarfs would be so dexterous with a knife."

She laughed, cringing at the thought.

"Those two kids you found are something else, aren't they?"

She smiled and turned away. "Sure are. One would think that with all they've been through, they'd be slow to trust anyone, but they seem to have warmed up to everyone without question. Especially the dwarfs."

"And Jadeite. I didn't even realize he liked kids, but I think he's fallen in love with that little girl."

Serena nodded, remembering how Gretel had gone straight to the blonde-haired prince and crawled into his lap as if it was her rightful throne.

"You know," Endymion said, his voice distant, "if you hadn't wanted to follow that bird, we never would have found them. And we wouldn't have killed the witches or broken Amy's curse or healed Zoicite's eyes." He looked as if there was more he wanted to say, but he hesitated and fell silent.

Serena began finger-combing her hair, not sure if Endymion was giving her a compliment.

"But we could have all died, or been ravens forever," he added, more to himself than Serena. She risked a glance at his face and his expression looked torn between two opposing ideas—half bathed in moonlight, the other in the warmth from the candle. Then he shook his head as if ridding himself of plaguing thoughts.

"Tell me about your land."

"My land?"

His lips quirked up and he looked at her from the corner of his eye. "Yes, Serena from far, far away. I must admit, I—" He paused again, awkwardly searching for words. Finally, he continued, "I'm peculiarly curious about you, Serena. I don't understand half the things you do and it seems that we disagree on almost everything, and yet everything so far has worked out for you. Like you have a kind fairy godmother watching over all you do." He laughed, shaking his head. "I get the impression that you're just kind of floundering around sometimes, and yet you never seem surprised when things go your way, or turn out exactly how you said they would. And you dress differently and you talk differently and… you don't act anything like any girl I've ever met." He trailed off as Serena felt a blush rising to her face and began to play with the makeshift bandage on her finger.

"Maybe I'm just lucky," she whispered, pursing her lips when Endymion turned his thoughtful gaze on hers.

"Tell me about your land," he repeated.

She shrugged. "I don't know that there's much to tell. Your land is much more magical than mine."

"Do all of the girls feel free to hug their reigning princes upon their first meeting?" he asked teasingly, chuckling as her face flushed.

"I wouldn't really know," she said awkwardly. "We don't have reigning princes where I come from."

"Really?" he asked, slightly surprised. "Then who rules?"

"Oh, we have an emperor," she said with a wave of her hand, "but mostly the government is run by prime ministers and cabinet officials—you know, boring stuff like that. Honestly, I'm not entirely up-to-date. I try to avoid politics like the plague." She laughed nervously.

He blinked uncertainly, but shrugged it off. "Then tell me about yourself."

"What do you want to know?"

"Anything. Everything." He smirked briefly, but the look quickly dissolved and he found himself staring into the candle's flame.

"Well, I go to school. Um… I like literature, but hate history. I read a lot. I love milkshakes and ice cream and cheeseburgers, but can't stand broccoli. I live with my mom in your average suburban neighborhood."

"What about your dad?"

"I never met him. He left us right after I was born."

Endymion lowered his eyes, surprised, but forced away the budding sympathy. "What's your mother like?"

Serena pursed her lips and thought of words to describe her mother. She conjured up the memory of her mom that she thought of most, the memory that depicted her mother as she was deep down on the inside—the part of her she never tried to show anybody, even her own daughter. It had been an early spring morning, when the air was still chilled but tulips were breaking their heads above the dirt. Serena was only four or five years old and she'd wandered into her mother's bedroom to find her sitting at her vanity in a plain cotton night robe, smiling sadly at her reflection. Around her neck was a large diamond necklace—Serena was sure it was the most valuable thing in their house, and she'd never seen it before, or since. Her mother had pulled Serena up onto her lap and taken off the necklace, clasping it over Serena's small collarbone. It was heavy, but warm from her mother's skin, and it was filled with a hundred new sparkles each time Serena turned her head. Her mother told her that someday the necklace would b e hers. And though she didn't say it, Serena knew that it had come from her father before he'd left. The thought did not occur to her until many years later that her father must have been very wealthy, and Serena was sometimes bitter that the only valuable thing he'd left them had been that necklace while her mother worked barely above minimum wage to raise her.

"Serena?"

Startled, she turned to see Endymion's blue eyes on her, his brows furrowed with worry.

"I'm sorry…" she trailed off, then cleared her throat and shook the image away. Recalling his question, she said, "My mother is… strong. She raised me all on her own, working too many hours for too little money, but never once complaining. And she always came home with a smile and found the time to cook dinner and read me stories." She sighed, squinting up at the moon. "But sometimes I think she's very sad. She's never told me, but I can see it in her face when she's trying too hard to be happy. I don't think she ever stopped loving my dad. She's never tried to meet anyone new." Forcing a smile, she added, "And it would be easy for her to meet someone new. She's beautiful and charming and kind to everyone."

"Well of course she is," muttered Endymion. "She made you, didn't she?"

Serena rolled her eyes and tried not to feel flattered.

"What about your friends? Do you miss them?"

"I don't have a whole lot of friends," she answered, crinkling her nose. "I mean, I do at school, but Melvin's the only person I spend a lot of time with."

"And Melvin is your... lover?" Endymion asked, toying with the rough edge of his severed cloak.

Gagging, Serena furiously shook her head. "Oh, no, no, no. We're just friends. We live right next door to each other, and he's a great guy and all, but he's also kind of... well... weird."

Endymion beamed at her and quirked an eyebrow. "And you're not weird?"

"Trust me, I'm nowhere near Melvin's level of supreme weirdness. He collects butterflies and moths, for example. And he knows _everything_ about _everyone._ I swear, if I didn't know better, I'd think he was a spy or something. But he makes me laugh and helps me study and gets me through the school week."

Endymion nodded, peering at her from the corner of his eye. "And what about this other fellow you mentioned before. This... Darien, was his name?"

Serena's eyes widened and she felt a blush cover her cheeks. "Oh, him. Yeah... we're not really friends."

"Really? That surprises me. You seemed awfully familiar when you mistook me for him."

"I was just excited about seeing a familiar face," she muttered with an uncomfortable shrug.

"Uh-huh. So... you wouldn't say that you were attracted to him?"

She laughed at the irony and refused to answer, which told the answer better than words could have. Endymion felt a proud swelling in his chest.

"So what's he like?"

She looked at Endymion with an expression he didn't recognize. "I barely know him. In fact, almost everything I do know about him I learned from Melvin, and lord only knows where he gets his information. But Darien Shields... well, I know he likes the Sunday comics and peanut butter on his pancakes and gets really good grades and is always polite to everyone, even geeks like Melvin, and he's... well, he's a lot like you. From what I can tell."

"I thought you'd decided we weren't so similar after all. Something about him being brave and me being a coward…"

Serena buried her cold fingers in her blanket. "I was angry, and frustrated. I didn't really mean that."

"Yes you did. And you were probably right. When it comes to hunting and fighting I'm as brave as they come but when it comes to love... or affection, I... I guess I can be a bit of a coward."

"You have no reason to be," Serena whispered. "Lots of girls would be thrilled for you to be interested in them. Actually, despite what I said, I think that might be another thing you and Darien do have in common. You see, he's by far the most popular guy at my school, but I don't think he dates much."

"What else do we have in common?" Endymion asked, the question equally curious and teasing, but Serena looked up with an affectionate expression that made his palms sweaty.

"Oh, let me think... ah! You both have dimples right here!" Reaching forward, she poked the prince in the cheek and he bitterly looked away, rubbing harshly at his face as if to wash the dimple away. She giggled happily, kicking her feet at Endymion's flustered and not-quite-angry look.

There was a long moment as Endymion stopped rubbing at his cheek and Serena stopped laughing and both of them listened to the sounds of the forest. The crickets and frogs in the distance had begun chirping as the moon rose above the treetops, and an occasional breeze shook the branches around them. "And you loved him," Endymion finally murmured.

Serena flushed, her posture straightening. "Oh, no! How could I? I've never even talked to him."

Endymion raised an eyebrow, forcing her to quickly divert her gaze.

"Well, it's true."

He shrugged. "Well, it didn't hurt to hope." Sighing, he stood and began to walk back toward the cottage.

"Hope? Hope what?"

"Well," he drawled, turning back and leaning down to her, "you see, if you _loved_ him, and I'm _exactly_ like him, then it would logically follow that . . ." His hands had planted themselves on either side of the stone, trapping her between his arms, as his eyes dug into her own, his lips quirked in that deliciously teasing grin that she knew so well.

"I . . . well . . . er . . ." She stuttered, her heart pounding against her chest. His breath danced against her cheek, his arms brushed along her elbows, her eyes drifted close.

"But since you're not in love with him," Endymion said, so loudly that she jumped in surprise, and then he had gotten up and was laughing and walking away in the tall grass and shadows. As he rounded the corner of the house and disappeared from view, Serena wrapped her arms protectively around her knees and hid her head behind her legs, trying to calm the furious twirling in her stomach.

"You're both just big teases," she whispered to herself. "And you both make me feel the same way." She sat there until the blush in her cheeks had gone away and a chilly breeze was sending goose bumps racing down her arms before she stood to go back into the cabin, planning on ignoring Endymion until the morning came. Her feelings seemed less transparent in the sunlight. Her feet settled comfortingly into the dewy, cold grass, but she'd barely taken half a dozen steps before something flickering between the trees caught her eye.

She paused, seeing silver rays of light dancing along some distant trees—like moonlight reflected from a shallow pool. She tiptoed closer with straining eyes, feeling the grass slowly give way to ferns and weeds and, not long after that, swampy, sticky mud. It kind of felt good squishing between her toes, but the feeling was ruined knowing that now she'd have to wash them again. But the dancing light wasn't far off and she continued, listening to her own footsteps below her and the quiet, almost creepy night sounds of the forest. An owl, a bat, a toad, a cricket—but it was all probably her imagination.

Something slithered beneath her foot and Serena yelped and jumped. She looked down and was startled at how dark the forest had become. She couldn't see her feet and it looked as though she was standing in a pool of darkness. She wiggled her toes, grateful for the mud sliming between them, grounding them, and glanced back over her shoulder. She hadn't gone far at all. The lights from the cottage could still be seen, golden and warm. She took a few deep breaths to calm her thudding heart, then slowly looked ahead again. The pale light washing languidly over the leaves and trunks was so close that it almost touched her, and she urged herself forward, humming a little in hopes of dispelling the dark, unfamiliar noises emerging from the foliage.

Her foot squelched when she pulled it from the mud and she grimaced before inching it forward, feeling with her toes what she could not see, and a few steps later she let out a relieved sigh as she recognized the touch of moss. Then she was emerging from the shadows and into a little clearing, faintly lit with a moonlike shine. It was not the moon, though, that cast the silver tendrils, but rather a stone well just out of arm's reach. The tranquil sounds of water filled the glen, and Serena's momentary fear faded into serenity as she stepped to the base of the well and put her hands into the thick ivy that was growing up and over the top.

Leaning forward, she ignored her hair as it slipped over her shoulders and fell to the water's surface. Its golden sheen was emphasized by the silver outline around it and it floated and rocked along with the current.

Serena's eyes fluttered. She licked her lips, and looked.

Her own blue eyes looked back at her, curious and awed. At first, the reflection was all she could make out in the pool, but slowly, she strained her eyes to look beyond, to search the depths for something else kept beneath the surface. To see the bottom of the well or a coin or a bucket or anything that might be found there.

The shimmering, mesmerizing waves of silver gradually settled into a gentle rippling pattern, beginning at the center of the well and moving outward—growing and expanding and finally disappearing into their stone boundaries, and between them Serena began to see something. A room.

She blinked dazedly and squinted at the almost-harsh sunlight streaming in through the room's only window. It was a pretty room, similar to her quarters in Aysel Castle, but even richer and warmer in appearance. At first the room was only window and curtains and walls and carpet, all with a distinct sense of welcoming—like living walls designed to love and protect—but gradually a vanity faded into the image, and the hazy figure of a girl before it. She was seated facing a little mirror and dressed all in white and lace and humming a strangely familiar song.

The song moved up from Serena's chest and she hummed along to it, filling the little glen with quiet music.

The girl lifted her arms and took down the hair that had been clipped up and then took a comb and began stroking it through the long locks. Her reflection in the vanity mirror was smiling a little—though only the lips could be seen. Then, there was a woman behind her, tall and willowy, but the pool's reflection still would not give up any details. She moved behind the girl like a shadow and spoke in a soothing voice, "Silly girl, a bride does not comb her own hair."

The woman took the comb from the girl's hand and began to stroke her fingers through the thick, colorless waves, and Serena felt their tingling presence from the top of her head to the base of her spine and her lips curled, like the lips in the girl's mirror.

"You'll make a very pretty princess," the woman mused, the words carrying the lilt of summer chimes. "This hair of yours—not a snag in it." To prove her words, she lifted the comb to the girl's hairline, its sharp little teeth caressing her scalp, and slowly pulled it back through the silky mane. She repeated the stroke to each side of the girl's head and Serena began to feel sleepy under the caresses and she yawned and the woman raised the comb, brazing her ear, past her temple…

Serena gasped, feeling the sudden sting of five pin-like teeth dig into the top of her scalp, and she watched as the girl fell off her chair and collapsed to the embracing carpet. Dropping the comb, the woman turned and skulked away—a shadow with curled crimson lips and shining crimson eyes.

The sun disappeared outside the window and the world turned black and Serena slumped breathlessly against the stone well.

* * *

The world was heavy when Serena began to regain consciousness. She first sensed a pulsing from her scalp, right behind her ear, making her head and neck and shoulders ache horribly. Then there was a tingling behind her eyes and the sensation of a hundred stones pressing down on her limbs. She groaned. Something wet and cool slid onto her tongue. She tried to choke it down but found her throat clogged and scratchy and coughed it back up. Then her shoulders were being lifted—some of the imaginary stones rolling off her, though her arms were too tired to move. She tried to twitch her fingers and succeeded. She tried to open her eyes.

A glaring light invaded her dark haven and she shut them again, suddenly gasping for breath. Had she been breathing before?

Muffled, faraway sounds began to reach her. Sounds that frantically sought out her ears and collided with her eardrums and banged against that thudding in the back of her head and she tried to pull away from the sounds, but something was holding her shoulders firmly in place. Or maybe she just didn't have the energy to move against them. The sounds continued, meshing into a jumble of words, then churning into familiar voices, but the dizzying effects of her pulsing headache made her forget where she knew them from, and she soon lost interest in trying. She wanted to bury her head beneath a sand dune and tune out all noise forever. Scrunching up her face, she mildly thought that if she could move her arms she could cover her ears, but they still felt buried beneath some impossible weight.

The cool, wet thing was on her tongue again and this time altogether refreshing and her throat opened to it and she drank greedily until it stopped and by that time the tingling behind her eyes had almost disappeared and the thumping behind her ear had dulled to a slight annoyance. She dared to open her eyes again.

The light that had so blinded her before turned out to be nothing more than an oil lamp a few feet away, flickering orange against the dark trees. Her eyes found the hand holding it and traced it along the arm and the shoulder and up into the face of a little man with a wiry orange beard and a green cap. Serena squinted at the man and let her head fall to one shoulder, thinking that he didn't seem quite like he belonged in such a boring place as Crossroads.

"Serena. Serena, can you hear me?" The voices that had peeved her so many minutes ago were clearer now and she drew her eyes away from the dwarf and turned toward the sound of her name and, if her heart hadn't felt as though it was pumping molasses, she was sure she would have gasped. Instead, she felt her lips curl up.

"Darien?" she mouthed more than spoke, and saw his brow furrow in surprise, then his pretty blue eyes darken underneath the long lashes. His lips twitched, drawing her attention to them, and she had the lovely thought that maybe he'd just kissed her awake. If she could have giggled, she might have, except for she didn't feel as though she'd just been kissed, and she'd always thought that such a thing would leave a lingering imprint on one's lips—like dream kisses did. Besides, this wasn't a fairy tale.

Serena's eyes widened and she discovered a gasp was possible after all.

Fairy Tale.

Dwarfs.

_Endymion._

"I…" she stuttered, attempting to lift her arms to Endymion's shoulders or put them in the grass and support herself or…

"Serena, breathe," Endymion gently commanded, tightening his hold around her shoulders. "Just relax."

"The poison's startin' to wear off," a gruff voice sounded behind the prince and Serena recognized Gralogwid, with his long black hair, then she glanced to Kepple, holding the lantern, and recognized him as well.

"Poison," she breathed, instinctively licking her lips.

"You're going to be okay," Endymion assured her, scooping her into his arms. "Come on, let's get her to a bed."

The walk back to the cottage was full of brambles reaching for Serena's arms and legs and the squishing sounds of footsteps in mud and the golden light of the lantern outlining their path and the image in Serena's head of the slender woman languidly brushing the girl's hair until she collapsed suddenly to the floor. When her arms found strength again, she slowly reached one up and felt her scalp, first noticing that the buns had been taken out and that most of her hair was still dripping from the pool water and streaked with mud where she had fallen. But then she ran her fingers along the sore spot behind her ears and felt something warm and sticky.

"Lookin' for this?"

Peering past Endymion's shoulder, she saw Gralogwid holding up a silver hair comb with inlaid pearls and emeralds and bits of dried blood clinging to its needlelike teeth.

"How?" she whispered.

"We'll figure this out later," Endymion murmured. "First, you need to rest."

"I don't want to rest. I want to know what happened to me. Someone tried to kill me!"

"I don't think tha's true," said Kepple from ahead. "I think you were jus' in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Serena was determined to stay awake until Kepple explained what he meant by that, but by the time they'd gotten to the cottage and Raye had fixed her a cup of warm cider and she'd been tucked beneath a quilt with a worried little Gretel at her side, sleep seemed to be the only reasonable option.

* * *

The morning was filled with murmurs and shuffling sounds before it was filled with light. Serena opened her eyes, feeling worlds better than she had the night before, and discovered a glass of water at her bedside. Gently moving Gretel's head off her shoulder, she sat up and drank the water and caught Endymion's eye, who was sitting in the next room with Snow White, all seven dwarfs, and Hota. Looking around, she saw that Amy was still curled up in another bed and Hansel was sprawled on a makeshift cot to her side.

Standing, Serena made her way to the larger living room where the others sat and saw Andrew, Seiya, Zoicite, and Jadeite through the window, slinging packs onto the horses.

"You should still be sleeping," Endymion reprimanded her as she joined them around the fireplace.

"How do you feel?" Raye appeared the most worried of anyone in the room, her violet eyes watching Serena's face with mute apprehension.

"Better. I just… want to know what happened." She felt her head, noting that her hair had been cleaned and the blood wiped off. Five small scabs had formed where the comb had punctured her.

The dwarfs grunted and shuffled their feet and looked at each other and at Raye, whose haunted gaze had moved down to the low-burning embers in the fireplace, remnants from the previous evening. Serena wondered if any of them had slept.

"You… were attacked," Raye said, choosing her words carefully.

"Well I figured that much. But by who? And why and… and _how?_"

"This is speculation, of course," Raye answered, "but we believe, the dwarfs and I, that… that it was my…" She cleared her throat, tightening her hands in her lap. "…my stepmother."

Later, Serena would chastise herself for being surprised. When the words had settled in, becoming more and more obvious as Serena dwelt on them, she murmured, "But why would your stepmother want to attack _me?_"

"It wasn' you she was aimin' for," Vlonterp interjected, tugging on an earlobe.

Serena blinked, then looked at serene-looking Snow White, then drawled understandingly, "Oh… of course. But why did she think I was you?"

Raye's eyes quickly rose to her and flashed, her expression taken aback. She opened her mouth to speak, before closing it and furrowing her brow in mute suspicion. Finally, she asked, "What do you mean 'of course'?"

Noticing that Endymion was also watching her carefully, Serena licked her lips and shrugged. "Well, since you're the only girl living here… she obviously… I mean, who would use a pretty comb like that to kill a dwarf?"

One of the dwarfs snorted his agreement, seeing the logic, and Raye let her speculative face fall. "Yes, well, she was after me. And I think, when she saw you, it was so dark and she was trying to look through that murky water and everything, that she must have just seen that it was a girl and assumed…"

"How did she do it? What does the well have to do with anything?"

Raye squirmed uncomfortably, her eyes distant. "She has a magic mirror." From the corner of her eye, Serena noticed Endymion sit up straighter with surprise. Raye explained, "It can be used for many things, one of which is to act as a portal to other mirrors. Any mirror in the world. And water, especially dark water, can make for a very good mirror. She must have been looking through the well when you looked into it."

"And the comb?"

Raye shook her head and looked down, wringing her hands. "She has… an obsession with poison. That comb had poison in its teeth."

"If master Endowed over there hadn' found you, you would 'ave been dead in an hour, tops."

Endymion's eyebrows shot up at yet another of the dwarfs' bestowed nicknames, but then he turned away. "She shouldn't have gone off by herself like that," he muttered. Serena found it hard to be angry at his indirect scolding. After all, she now admonished that he was probably right.

"Thanks," she whispered, but the prince didn't turn back, so she looked at Raye again. "But that doesn't explain how the comb got into my hair. If she was only looking through the mirror… where did it come from?"

Raye shook her head. "I don't know. My stepmother has powers far beyond anything I can explain." With a sigh, she stood up and kicked at the ashes on the hearth. "You're lucky to be alive, Lady Serena. And now, we have to wake the others and get out of here as quickly as possible. It won't be long before the queen realizes that she didn't kill me as she believes. I don't know how she found out where I am, but it isn't safe here any longer."

"The queen?" Serena asked as Raye disappeared into the tiny kitchen.

"Queen Beryl of Cashlin," answered Endymion. "We talked about her once before. Don't you remember?" He paused, quirking an eyebrow at Serena, but she only stared back at him in confusion. "Queen Beryl is the same witch who put the sleeping curse on Princess Briar Rose."

* * *

_Please review._


	16. In the Kitchen

**Author's excuses**: So. I've set for myself the goal to have the first draft of this entire story done by **July 1**. No small feat, let me tell you. Anyway, I've been so busy writing that I've completely forgotten that I need to keep posting too! Sorry. The next update shouldn't take so long.

**14 Days Left! Please send reviews filled with inspiration!**

Thanks to Phantasy Star for editing and all reviewers!

Enjoy!

The House on Thornrose Lane  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 16: In the Kitchen  
_When she rose up and the king's son looked at her face  
__he recognized the beautiful maiden who had danced with  
__him and cried, "That is the true bride."  
_from Cinderella

"Fiebrob, could you double-check that the fire was put out? Vlonterp, are all the windows shut? I'd hate to come back and find that a family of raccoons has moved in. Kepple, are you sure you grabbed those extra bandages from the cupboard?"

"Aye, Snow Queen, the fire an' the windows an' the bandages are all taken care of. Would you relax? You're startin' to make us nervous."

"An' no one likes a nervous dwarf. We get all rowdy an' start swingin' axes aroun'. It isn't a pretty sight," Qualakig said this with a wink at Gretel who was perched up on Jadeite's horse.

"A bit paranoid, isn't she?" Jadeite joked.

Qualakig snorted and rolled his eyes. "You should see her when we're late comin' back from the mines. I swear she'd send a search party if she 'ad one."

"Qualakig! How long ago did I tell you to straighten out your bed? You don't want to come back and find it infested with fleas, do you?"

The dwarf sighed. "Right away, Snow Cone," he breathed and trumped back to the house.

"Don' listen to 'im," said Gralogwid. "Our lit'le Snow Angel's been through a lot, and the event with Miss Bunhead and the well has left 'er a lit'le shaken up."

"What happened to Serena, anyway? I saw Endymion bring her in last night, all covered in mud, but no one seems to want to talk about anything."

"She's okay now," Gralogwid said with a little sigh, "But you're gonna 'ave to find someone else to give you details. I jus' don' feel it's my place." He turned and walked toward the horses, checking on saddles and stirrups.

Jadeite looked back at the ebony-haired girl, who was scanning the yard nervously, counting invisible tasks off on her fingers, when Hansel came up and seized her hand. Raye gasped and looked down at his chubby, freckled face, and slowly smiled back, ruffling his hair with her free hand. Then she noticed Jadeite standing before her, a crooked smile on his lips.

"What?" she snapped.

He chuckled and backed away with his hands up in surrender. "I didn't say anything." He paused, allowing her time to blush or at least look apologetic, but she did neither, only went back to scanning the yard for potential disasters. "May I help you onto your steed, mi'lady?"

Raye raised a slender eyebrow at him, squeezing Hansel's hand. "Not just yet."

"Lady Raye," Jadeite said, "you'll only be gone for a few days. Everything will be fine."

Pursing her lips together, Raye slowly exhaled. "I guess you're right, it's just hard to leave. Here, could you hand Hansel up to me?"

"Of course, but—" Jadeite was interrupted as Raye climbed onto her horse with a grace that surprised him. "Um. Sure." Raye laughed as Jadeite hoisted Hansel up onto the horse's back.

"Comfy?"

They both nodded and Jadeite took a moment to check the stirrups and bridle as the rest of the group got settled and the dwarfs lined up in preparation for the long march—which seemed to excite rather than daunt them.

"Oh! Boreetok, did you check—"

"Three times, Paper White. Off we go!"

The morning's chaos dissolved as the dwarfs began marching off into the woods, Gralogwid in the lead. Jadeite leaped onto his horse behind Gretel and he and Raye formed the rear of the line, with the horses meandering leisurely down the path. As soon as the journey was underway, Gralogwid began whistling a tune, and he was soon joined by the practiced melodies of his brothers, and their music swam around the company and melded with the songs of the forest and the beat of the horses' hooves and the wind and the birdsong and the river in the distance until the whole world melted into the dwarfs' tune.

About midday they stopped for lunch, and upon resuming their trek, Jadeite pulled his horse up beside Raye on the pretense that Hansel and Gretel could keep each other better company, although both of the children seemed perfectly content to listen to the whistling and occasionally attempt to join in with red faces and puckered lips.

After a moment of silence, Raye turned to Jadeite as if she had suddenly made up her mind about something. "I know you must think my concerns this morning were unfounded."

"Not at all, mi'lady. It's only natural that you'll want your home to be as safe and comfortable when you return as it was when you left it."

She opened her lips to respond, then seemed to think better of it and turned her dark violet gaze back to the trail ahead. Then, as the whistling reached a particularly strong crescendo before falling into a lull, she said quietly, "It's the only home I have. And the dwarfs are the only friends I have. If anything were to happen to them on my account…" she trailed off and Jadeite had to inch his horse closer to hers in order to hear the last words.

"Raye, why would anything happen to them on your account?"

She snorted, quite unbecomingly, but Jadeite couldn't help but smile. "Just look what happened to Serena, and she didn't even know…" She turned and stared at the prince for a long moment, searching his green eyes and making him profoundly uneasy. Finally she inhaled a deep breath and turned her eyes down.

Jadeite, thinking he had failed whatever test she was giving him, reached a gentle hand out to her sleeve. "Raye—"

"I'm being hunted," she confessed, subconsciously ruffling Hansel's hair.

"Hunted?"

She nodded and looked at him again. "I shouldn't be telling you this. Up until this morning, the dwarfs were the only ones who knew. I shouldn't involve you."

Jadeite shook his head and reached for her hand. "Tell me anyway. Who is it? And why? You saved my brother's life. I would do anything to help you."

"I'm not asking for your help. I wish none of this had happened. It's just that that's why I'm so nervous about going anywhere. Our little cottage has always felt like my only sanctuary, but now I know even that isn't true. The outside world feels so dangerous. Everything seems so dangerous, not just for me, but for everyone associated with me. I wanted you to understand why leaving is so hard and why it's so… important for me that we're prepared and that our home will be as safe as possible."

"Of course. Of course you want that, and of course you would be scared. But, Raye, you're with some of the best hunters and fighters in the land, and I know at least one of those guardians," he gestured toward the guardians, who were riding near the front of the caravan, "has some knowledge of magic. You're safe with us." When she didn't respond, he squeezed her hand.

She looked up and held his gaze, reveling in the sincerity of his slightly turned-up lips and kind eyes. She turned away and soon so did he, though his hand did not leave hers. A long time later, she whispered, "It's my stepmother."

He turned back to see Raye smiling ironically, her eyes sad and unseeing as she stared into the forest.

"Your stepmother?"

She nodded.

"Your stepmother is the one hunting you?"

She nodded again.

"But why?"

She inhaled shakily and turned to him.

"My stepmother is Queen Beryl of Cashlin."

Jadeite's stiffened. At first he thought she must be joking, but her sorrowful expression told him that she was not. Wetting his lips, he shook his head and stuttered, "I thought your name sounded familiar. You're Princess Snow White. Of course."

"I'm no longer a princess."

"We were told that you ran away years ago. You were presumed dead." He looked up at her. "Surely Queen Beryl thinks you're dead as well."

"If only, but she knows better. And I didn't run away. I was taken into the woods to be murdered."

"Murdered!"

"Yes, but the huntsman decided that he couldn't and he set me free instead. To this day I don't know why."

"Do you think he went back to the queen?"

"It would have been foolish of him. I thought perhaps he would seek sanctuary in Aysel, actually. Or perhaps Obelia. But it would have been suicide to return to Cashlin. My stepmother sees everything."

"What do you mean?"

She briefly hesitated. "She has one of the magic mirrors."

Jadeite's stomach flipped. "One of _the_ magic mirrors?"

"Yes. Something about it, its powers, allows her to see things in this world that she should not be able to see. I've heard a rumor that she can use other mirrors as portals, or windows… I don't understand how it works, but I do know that very few things are out of her grasp."

"And you think she's seen you?

"It's the only explanation. We don't keep any mirrors in the cottage, of course, but I must have slipped somehow, somewhere."

"And that's how she knows that you aren't dead."

"Not just that. She knows where I am, too. She came after Serena, last night, but she must have thought it was me she was killing."

"How?"

"Through a well of water back in the woods. Serena found it and looked into it and… Beryl saw her and made her move. She's lucky to be alive."

Jadeite drew his brow down. "But why does she want to kill you?"

She clenched her jaw and Jadeite noticed tears forming in her eyes that were quickly blinked away. "I don't know." She looked at him again, her eyes glittering in the sunlight. "You believe me, right?"

"Of course I believe you. I've heard a lot about this Queen Beryl and wouldn't put much of anything beyond her. In fact, she's the same witch who cursed Briar Rose, Endymion's betrothed, with eternal sleep."

"I remember hearing about that, but I was only a baby when it happened."

"Raye, so long as you're in my company, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe."

Her lips twitched and he threaded their fingers together. "Do you believe _me_?"

"Yes," she murmured. "But I don't know why I trust you." Jadeite frowned, but she didn't see the look and continued, "And the dwarfs trust you and your companions, too, which is even more unusual. Since I've been living with them, they've been like overprotective big brothers to me. They distrust strangers even more than I do, and yet, here they are. Here we are. It goes against all our instincts. But… I do trust you. All of you."

Slowly, Jadeite's frown melted into a smile and he stroked his thumb along her knuckles. "We won't hurt you. We're your friends, too, now."

"Thank you."

The whistling had reached a steady, lilting tune that brought to mind a boat floating aimlessly on a calm lake and Jadeite felt content as autumn leaves fell peacefully around the group and the horse swayed beneath him in its sauntering walk.

"Did you say that Princess Briar Rose is betrothed to Endymion?"

"Yes. Since the day she was born." Jadeite glanced over to see a look of surprise on Raye's face. He followed her gaze to see Endymion riding beside Serena, both of them whistling along with the dwarfs. "Why do you ask?"

Raye shook her head. "I just thought…. Oh, it's nothing. My perception skills obviously aren't as keen as they used to be, but I suppose being surrounded by seven men will do that to a girl."

Jadeite chuckled.

"So, then, what's Serena's story?"

"Serena?"

"Yes. I mean, I thought…. I was under the impression that her and Endymion were…"

Jadeite laughed. "Oh, no, no, there's nothing between them. Actually, we only met Serena about a week ago. She just showed up at the kingdom one day, quite miraculously. Actually, she saved my niece's life."

"Your niece?"

"Yes, my brother, Malachite, and his wife have a baby girl, Cytherea. She's the prettiest baby you can imagine. She has my nose."

Raye grinned and Jadeite told her the story of Rumpelstiltskin and Mina spinning straw into gold and how she had to guess his name or else he would steal away her firstborn child, but, just as the situation was looking grim, Serena showed up knowing the dwarf's name and he literally split himself in half with anger. Raye listened intently as Jadeite related all of the details.

"How lucky she showed up."

"Indeed. And since then, everyone's taken quite a liking to her. Even Seiya seems to enjoy her company, and he doesn't enjoy anything."

Raye laughed.

"But it's strange that you thought she and Endymion were close," Jadeite mused. "Honestly, they haven't seemed to get along at all since they met—although they're being civil right now. It's odd. Normally Endymion is at least polite to strangers, especially guests of the palace, but these two seem to drive each other crazy."

"I noticed," Raye said with a secretive smile. "In fact, that's exactly why I thought there was something between them to begin with."

* * *

"Oh, my babies! You're home!" Queen Luna cried, running down the palace steps to greet the procession as they marched in through the great wooden gate. She paused on the last step, clutching the fabric over her heart as her eyes met a grinning Zoicite. "Your eyes!"

He dismounted and helped Amy down from the horse before pulling his mother into a hug. "All better, Mother."

"How? What happened? And who is this pretty thing?"

Amy shyly lowered her eyes as Zoicite seized her hand. "Mother, meet Amy. We're engaged to be married!"

Luna's jaw dropped. "Oh! Oh my! Well then. Come in, come in, we'll have dinner put on right away. And this, who are all these men? Oh, I recognize you two."

Gralogwid and Qualakig bowed to the queen and introduced her to their five brothers.

"And this," added Jadeite, "is Raye."

The queen eyed the raven-haired girl curiously, then gestured between her and Jadeite. "Are you two engaged too?"

Blushes quickly rose on both of their faces and Jadeite shook his head. "No mother, just Zoicite."

"Well, you can't blame a mother for trying. Welcome to our castle, dear. And who are these two?"

"Hansel and Gretel."

"Hello Master Hansel and Lady Gretel." She glanced at Jadeite. "Where did all these people come from?"

"It's a long story."

"I suspect you'll all have a lot to tell me over dinner. Ah! Lady Serena! How nice to see you again! Endymion, darling, I trust you've been taking good care of our honored guest." Endymion shrugged, glancing at Serena from the corner of his eye before giving his mother a hug.

"All in all, I think maybe she's been taking better care of us," he said, his eyes twinkling. "But it's good to be home, Mom."

"And sooner than expected," said Malachite as he, Mina, Nephlite, and King Artemis appeared in the doorway. "I thought you would be gone for a week! But by the looks of it, you all had a very exciting couple of days."

"You won't believe the half of it," said Jadeite, then, noticing that Mina carried a small bundle in her arms, his face lit up. "Ah! Raye, this is my niece that I was telling you about." Mina gladly handed the baby to Raye's welcoming arms. "Meet Princess Cytherea."

"Oh, she is lovely. And you're right, she does have your nose."

"She does not either," said Mina, crinkling her own nose with distaste. "She's going to be a spitting image of me, you'll see."

The crowd began migrating into the castle as the newcomers were reintroduced to the royal family and they each began relating the adventures they had gone through since leaving the castle just the previous morning. As they meandered into a parlor room, Nephlite made his way to the newly engaged couple and pulled Zoicite into a hug.

"It's good to see you well again, Zoicite," he said, then grinned at Amy. "When he left us he was one of the most miserable creatures you could imagine, but now he's positively glowing. I think we have you to thank for that."

"The feelings are mutual," said Amy, taking in her surroundings with awe.

"And to think that you're getting married! At least there will be one wedding this week," he said with a low laugh.

Zoicite gasped. "Of course, I've been so absentminded I completely forgot about the engagement ball! How was it?"

Nephlite shoved his hands into his pockets. "Well… I'm not engaged. But that isn't important right now. Amy, tell me, how do you find the palace?"

"It's amazing!" she squealed. "It's like nothing I've ever read about!"

"Yes, I heard about the… the tower. How horrible."

"I suppose, but I didn't know any different at the time. Besides, it was because of that tower that I met Zoicite, and now the whole world is open to me."

"And I plan on showing you all of it," Zoicite said, squeezing her fingers.

"Nephlite! Nephlite, play a song for us," Mina cheered, gesturing at a grand piano that sat in the corner.

Nephlite chuckled and bowed at Amy and his brother. "It seems I'm being called away. Welcome to the family, Lady Amy." Though his lips were smiling, he had a sad look in his eyes as he turned and approached the piano. Sitting on the bench, he let his fingers glide soundlessly over the keys as a hush fell over the room. He started to play a lilting and peaceful tune, and though he urged his fingers to bring the tempo to a jolly melody, it always seemed to return to a haunting, sorrowful song.

Sitting alone in his thoughts and the music, Nephlite tried to convince himself that the heaviness in his chest was only a ridiculous sense of envy—after all, he had planned on being married himself, if things had gone differently. But he could not begrudge his brother's happiness. He tried to remind himself how happy he was to have all his family together in one place, how glad that Zoicite had been healed, how wonderful it would be to have a new sister-in-law who was sure to be as delightful as Mina was.

He tried not to feel lonely. He tried to ignore the heartsickness. He tried to turn away from the vision of Lita's beautiful face looking so rejected, from the feel of her calloused fingers, from the honeydew scent of her hair the night of the ball.

He tried very hard not to think of her, but she was to be found in every note his fingers formed on the cold keys.

He played until they were called to dinner.

* * *

"Lita, I'm putting you in charge of the cakes. They want four different flavors: chocolate, vanilla, almond, and something fruity, they said. Any ideas?"

"I could make a fabulous champagne cake with orange-raspberry filling and strawberry cream cheese frosting, then we could top it with huckleberries and a drizzle of rich white chocolate."

The head chef smiled at her apprentice. "I knew you were the right person for the job. Now get to work! We need enough to serve—oh!" Gasping, she dropped her spatula and dropped into a low curtsy. "Your Majesty!" Immediately, the crazy bustle in the kitchen died out as the staff noticed Nephlite lingering uncomfortably in the doorway. They all quickly fell into bows and curtsies, except for Lita who was rendered motionless.

Nephlite stared into her green eyes, ignoring the respects being paid to him. Finally, Lita inhaled a long, steady breath and stepped away from the supportive counter. She stood up very tall with her chin held high before lowering her eyes and dropping into a graceful curtsy.

With a startled cry, Nephlite launched forward and grabbed her upper arm, lifting her before she could complete the bow.

"Please," he whispered. "Please don't."

"Your Highness," Lita breathed, avoiding his eyes with her chin still held high.

"Call me Nephlite."

"It would be inappropriate for a lowly servant such as myself to take on such familiar airs with a prince." Though her tone was polite, there was an almost undetectable sarcastic bite to it.

Nephlite detected it.

"Lita," he whispered, his hand trembling on her arm. Goose bumps crawled up her skin. "May I have a word with you? Please?"

She began to pull away and his hand released her. She backed into the counter and glanced down at the bowl of batter she'd been mixing. "Your Highness, I'm afraid that we're terribly busy and I haven't the time to—"

"Of course, we can spare her for a few moments, Your Majesty," the head chef interrupted. Nephlite cast her a grateful smile. When he turned back to Lita she was glaring at her boss, but quickly replaced the look with one of indifference.

"I suppose," she muttered, untying her apron.

* * *

As they stepped into the hallway, the kitchen once again burst into chatter, but this time Lita doubted it had anything to do with food or weddings. Her heart pounded furiously and her cheeks flushed as Nephlite guided her down the hallway. Her pride forced her to keep her head high, even though she desperately wanted to disappear into the stone walls. Despite the smell of chocolate and flour that lingered on her, she could detect a woodsy aroma from the prince. It was the same aroma she'd become so familiar with when they danced, and it was making her dizzy.

"Would you like to visit the gardens?" he asked, faking nonchalance.

"I shouldn't go so far. I do have a lot of work to do for tomorrow's ceremony."

Nephlite stopped walking and turned to her. She took in the sight of his long auburn hair falling messily over his shoulders, the casual green tunic that accented his broad chest, and how, despite his bare feet, he still towered over her—a feat that few men could lay claim to. His blue eyes were haunted and turbulent as he watched her and she almost couldn't believe that these were the same eyes that had smiled at her at the ball less than a week before. That night they had been full of joy and affection and hope for a bright future.

She wasn't sure what they were full of now.

Eventually, he cast his eyes downward, his hair falling over his face, and leaned against a wall with a long exhale. That was when Lita realized that she, too, had been holding her breath and she let it go in a rush. Her dizziness returned.

"I wanted to apologize," he whispered, not daring to look at her, "for how I've treated you. For what I said. There is no excuse."

She wanted to say, "No, there isn't," but she bit her tongue and said nothing.

Taking her silence as a prompt to continue, Nephlite explained, "When we first decided to hold an engagement ball, I'd thought that I would meet a noblewoman and fall in love. But when I saw you, I thought you must be a princess, and a princess I could have handled. I was prepared for that. It fit into my idea of… perfection, I suppose."

Lita walked aimlessly to the other side of the hallway, sinking to the floor as the strength she'd been hoarding deserted her.

"And when I wasn't that perfection you didn't know what to do with me."

"That isn't what I—"

"You shouldn't have come here, Your Highness." She looked up at him, unshed tears glittering in her lashes. "We danced, that's all. You didn't ask me to marry you. You haven't betrayed your word or your honor."

"I've betrayed my heart, which is a hundred times worse." Pushing himself away from the wall, Nephlite kneeled before her, but she turned away. "And I've betrayed you."

"But you haven't."

"Lita, you may not be a princess, but it was stupid of me to think that it matters. When Serena brought you back to the castle, I got scared, because I was looking at the most beautiful girl I've ever laid eyes on, and I could tell that you were so much stronger and braver than me, and that you saw the world as being filled with light and hope, despite everything that's happened to you, and I knew, I _knew_ that you were a better person than I was and you deserved better than me." He laughed, as if finding the idea outrageous. "A girl that society says is so far below me and yet I was worried that I wouldn't live up to your expectations. I didn't know what to do. I know, it's stupid and I understand if you no longer want anything to do with me, but…" His words died out with an anguished sigh.

"You thought that _you_ wouldn't live up to _my_ expectations? Prince Nephlite, I've slept in ashes all my life. My own stepmother and sisters forced me to wait on them hand and foot, threatening to throw me to the street if I didn't. Do you have any idea how terrifying it was for me to go to that ball? To pretend for one night that I could be beautiful? To believe for one night that I deserved more than blistered hands and stale bread? That I maybe even deserved to be loved? I didn't go to that ball expecting to marry a prince, I only wanted to feel as though I belonged for once. And for a few hours you made me feel that way, and you made me think that I was special and that my life could change. That's all that I wanted." She turned her head down in an attempt to conceal the first tears escaping her eyes. "But when I saw you again without the dress or the jewels or the slippers, you looked at me as if you were disgusted that a servant like me would even dream of being loved by a prince like you."

She paused, her hands trembling. "Perhaps that was your true betrayal."

Nephlite cringed, then looked up, startled, as Lita climbed to her feet.

"But we shouldn't do this. You're a royal prince. There is no place for me in your life. Besides, I have about a hundred wedding cakes to make."

"Lita."

The desperation in his voice stilled her feet. He reached into a pocket of his tunic and produced her glass slipper, just as clear and brilliant as it had been when her fairy godmother placed it on her foot. He held it up to her. "I've been carrying it around with me for six days. I thought perhaps you would like it back."

She took a hesitant step away from him. "What use have I of such a pretty thing?" she whispered, before fleeing back to the kitchen.

The hectic kitchen once again fell into silence as Lita slipped through the door, closed it, and buried her face in both hands. The kitchen staff exchanged nervous glances, itching for gossip and desperately curious. But the sound of Lita's first sobs replaced those thoughts with little more than a desire to comfort her, for in the short time that they'd known her they'd all found it impossible not to love the girl for her kind heart and unshakable optimism.

Slowly, the head cook stepped toward Lita and wrapped her arms around the shaking girl, who quickly fell into the motherly embrace, crying a week's worth of tears onto her shoulder.

"There, there, darling. It'll be alright." She guided her toward the sink and began to caress Lita's red cheeks with a cool, damp rag. The other attendants gathered around, hoping to somehow be of use.

Then the door swung open and Nephlite was in the doorway again, frowning with determination.

Lita's bloodshot eyes met his momentarily, but with a sob she spun around and hid her face. "Oh, go away," she pleaded. "Please, please go away."

Nephlite gulped, his hand tightening around the slipper, and slowly approached her. The servants backed away as if he'd commanded it, except the head cook who kept a protective arm around the girl.

"Lita," he said with surprising conviction. "I'm in love with you."

She cried out in surprise, her sobs catching in her throat, but could not turn to face him. He hesitantly stepped closer to her.

"I'm in love with you and I don't care if the world knows. I _want_ the world to know. You're the most amazing, beautiful, strong-willed, hard-headed girl I've ever met and I adore you. The happiest moments of my life were when we danced at that ball and I would give anything to feel that way again. I don't want a princess. I don't want anyone else."

She swiped at the tears on her cheeks but couldn't make them stop falling, even when she felt Nephlite behind her. Steadily, he reached out and set the slipper down on the counter. She reached out her fingers and watched through blurred eyes as they slid over the cool, smooth surface. Then, he set beside it a tiny velvet box. She cautiously took it into her hand, surprised at how heavy it was, and turned it over a few times in her palms. Her heart began to hammer inside of her chest and her tears ceased to fall as trembling fingers lifted the box's lid. A gold ring with a diamond cut into the shape of a rose glittered up at her. She sucked in a quick breath, feeling suddenly faint.

"I know that you have no need of a prince," Nephlite murmured. "But I have the most painful need of you."

Licking her lips, Lita slowly tipped the box's lid until it snapped close, and turned to face the prince, lifting her chin to meet his eyes. She searched the brown depths for honesty and found in them everything she'd hoped for and more. With a sniffle and a hint of a smile, she whispered, "Prove it."

* * *

A sudden pause infiltrated Endymion and Jadeite's conversation as Nephlite swept into the ballroom, laden with a tray of polished silverware in one hand and a basket full of cloth napkins tucked beneath the other arm.

Exchanging an uncertain glance with his blonde brother, Endymion smirked and asked, "Nephlite… why are you wearing an apron?"

Ignoring them, Nephlite set his goodies down on the nearest banquet table and began unloading the basket, folding each napkin carefully and intricately and setting it down beside each lace-trimmed placemat. "It's proper kitchen attire," he answered as if it was obvious, using the apron to rub a smudge off a fork.

Jadeite and Endymion curiously saddled up to either side of the brunette.

"And why are you dressed in proper kitchen attire?" Jadeite asked with unhidden amusement.

"Because one of the kitchen staff became busy with other wedding preparations and they needed an extra hand."

"So you got tired of the whole princely gig and found your true calling in… kitchen service?"

Nephlite finally met Endymion's eyes and broke into a huge grin. "Yes… something like that. Say, do spoons go on the left or the right?"

* * *

Serena sat at her vanity, humming to herself and pulling a comb through her long hair. She could hear servants rushing around the hallway through her open door. It seemed the entire kingdom was caught in preparation for tomorrow's wedding ceremony. Her own maids had been sent away close to an hour ago and she was grateful to be alone for once and have the time to daydream to herself, even though she felt a little guilty about the fantasies.

In her dream, Prince Endymion was her Darien from home, and he remembered her and adored her. And they discovered that the betrothal was a mistake and Princess Briar Rose was really engaged to some other prince. And the second Endymion found this out he came running into Serena's room to tell her, and he confessed that the only reason he had pushed her away was because he'd thought he was engaged and he couldn't have feelings for another girl, but now that that was no longer the case, he wanted her hand in marriage.

Serena blushed. There was far too much talk of marriage going around. She felt guilty about daydreaming about a man who was to be given to another girl—especially when she realized that it was partly her responsibility to make sure they really did fall in love and complete the fairy tale. She had to ignore the jealousy building in her stomach when she thought of Endymion getting married, and remind herself that Prince Endymion and Darien Shields were two different boys.

Besides, she didn't really _like_ Endymion to begin with. He was rude and arrogant and always wanted her to explain herself. And he never trusted her judgments on anything. And he didn't believe in true love, and she could never fall for someone who wasn't a romantic at heart, so what was there to feel guilty about?

It wasn't her fault that Endymion had the same haircut as Darien, and the same voice, and that same crooked smile. And it wasn't her fault that he enjoyed tormenting her by being flirtatious one moment and a complete jerk the next. He was quite despicable, really—when one thought about it. He wasn't even all _that much_ like Darien. For example, he… well, he was a prince. Darien wasn't. Not officially, at least.

She couldn't really be in love with both of them, could she?

Serena set the brush on the vanity. Scowling at her reflection she muttered, "Who says I'm in love with either of them?"

A knock startled Serena from her reverie and she turned to see Lita leaning against her doorframe.

"Lita!" she exclaimed, jumping up from her chair. "Come in! It's so great to see—"

She froze as Lita raised up her left hand, displaying a diamond ring that caught the light of every sconce in the room. Serena gasped, clasping her hands over her mouth, and searched Lita's expression.

Finally, looking as though she were about to burst, Lita said, "Tomorrow's going to be a double ceremony."

Squealing with delight, Serena threw her arms around the brunette and they both erupted in giggles. "I don't believe it! It's about time that stupid prince snapped out of his stubborn idiocy. Wait—you are marrying _Nephlite,_ right?"

"Actually, I met this amazing pot scrubber. He's great with his hands."

Her eyes widening, Serena pushed Lita to arm's length. "Oh. Oh, that's great, Lita…"

Lita buckled over with laughter. "You're too gullible! Of _course_ I'm marrying Nephlite! Do you think a pot scrubber could afford this ring?"

Beaming, Serena pulled Lita toward her bed. "Don't scare me like that! Now sit down and tell me _everything_!"

* * *

_Please review._


	17. Betrothed

Success! The first draft of this story was completed on July 1, as I'd planned, and I'm sooooo happy it's done!

It came to a grand total of 36 chapters, so while you've come a long way, dear readers, you still have a ways to go. Chapters still need to go through two rounds of revising and editing, but updates should be pretty regular.

Thanks to all reviewers and Phantasy Star, my fabulous editor!

Enjoy!

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 17: Betrothed  
_The prince approached her, and again he did not recognize her.  
He led her out to dance and was so enchanted by her  
beauty that he no longer thought of the other bride.  
_from The True Bride

Despite having been planned in less than a day, the outdoor wedding ceremony went off without a hitch. Both Hansel and Gretel, as the ring bearer and flower girl, were extremely well-behaved. The vows were truthful and poetic and brought tears and sighs from all the ladies in attendance. The garden itself seemed to have been preparing itself for the occasion all summer long. The flowers looked to have blossomed overnight for one extraordinary finale of scent and color before autumn's chills forced them into hibernation.

Serena blinked back the tears when she saw Amy and Lita appear together at the end of the moss-covered aisle, each holding a small bouquet of lilies and dressed in the most elegant wedding gowns Serena had ever seen. She wondered if there was a stash of fine clothes somewhere in the castle, or perhaps if Hota and her fellow fairy godmothers had assisted with the extravagant wardrobes for the occasion. Either way, they both resembled perfect princesses-to-be, though standing together they looked like exact opposites: Lita with her long brown hair curling around her waist and her near-imposing height dwarfed tiny Amy with her cropped blue locks (which, Serena admonished, were growing out nicely).

Watching them glide down the aisle, Serena thought back to that morning when she, Raye, Mina, and Queen Luna had helped the two brides dress and style their hair. When Amy and Lita had first met, they had stood looking at each other silently for a moment, needing no introductions, before they laughed and embraced, a mutual understanding between them. Neither seemed the slightest bit irritated that they would be sharing their perfect day with another. In fact, despite having just met, they acted as though they were already sisters.

The feelings of companionship had increased as their stories were told and their hair curled and their bodies perfumed. Serena felt a strong bond with all of the girls in that room and equated it to having siblings for the first time in her life. Sharing in their happiness made her journey feel charming and worthwhile and…

And very much like a fairy tale.

Sneaking a look at Raye's face while she pinned an orchid into Lita's hair, Serena had known that the Maid of Honor felt the same way.

During the ceremony, as Andrew had the honor of marrying the two joyful couples, Serena tore her gaze away from their smiling faces to survey the crowd. Queen Luna sat in the front row, her fingers intertwined with her husband's, dabbing a handkerchief to her eyes. Beside her, Mina and Malachite looked equally delighted.

Hota and Seiya, on the other hand, looked desperately bored.

Serena bit her tongue to keep from laughing and faced forward again, her eyes instantly clashing with Endymion's. He raised an eyebrow at her cherry-red face and glanced over toward the two guardians, then bowed his head with a near-inaudible snicker as well. When their eyes met again, Endymion's were twinkling. Serena felt a jolt to her heartstrings. She felt as though they were sharing a secret.

Beside the youngest prince, Jadeite struggled to divide his attention equally between the unification of two of his brothers and their brides, little Gretel who kept straying from her post beside the altar to follow a butterfly around the topiaries, and—Serena thought she was sure—Raye. A smile came quickly to Serena's face and, while she was glad that two fairy tales seemed to have been successfully completed, the romantic aura surrounding her made her anxious to move on to the next story: Snow White.

The ceremony ended and the crowd proceeded into the ballroom where the servants had been busy decorating and setting up tables full of food and drink since before dawn. It seemed to Serena that the entire town must have been present at the celebration as it became more and more difficult to maneuver through the crowd. The dance floor was immediately filled with couples. An orchestra—the same, she believed, from Nephlite's engagement ball—began to play. The newlyweds were among the first on the floor and Serena's heart soared as she watched Zoicite give Amy her first lesson in the waltz, while Nephlite and Lita danced merry circles around them. It was not long before Mina and Malachite and Luna and Artemis were amongst them, but when Serena's eyes swept the room she noticed a lonely-looking Raye against a wall. Two of the dwarfs were trying to entertain her by making snide remarks about the haughtier-looking attendees, but Raye's violet gaze was staring into space, a dreamy-sad smile on her crimson lips. Though it was obvious that many handsome youths desired to approach her, they all seemed intimidated by her ax-bearing companions. None dared come close.

Not even Jadeite, loitering a few yards away, seemed keen on asking the maiden to dance, though his eyes continuously darting toward her made it obvious that he could think of nothing else.

That was all the prompting the Chosen One required. Straightening her back, Serena strutted toward the prince.

"I think she would say yes."

Startled, Jadeite turned to her and blinked a few times before her words registered. "I'm sorry?"

"No need to apologize. Just go ask her."

Jadeite furrowed his brow, before glancing back toward Raye who was politely trying to hide a yawn. He turned back to Serena. "You mean…?"

"Of course. No girl wants to be left a wallflower at a party like this, and with those dwarfs hanging around her all night I doubt many bachelors in the room will have the gall to ask. I'm sure she could use a savior." Winking, she took Jadeite's wine from him and nudged him away. "Go on."

Glancing back only once, Jadeite did approach Raye, whose face instantly lit up as he held a hand toward her. Serena repressed a swoon as the two walked onto the dance floor hand in hand, congratulating herself once more on a job well done.

"May I have this dance, mi'lady?"

Turning, Serena giggled and nodded ecstatically. "Of course you may, Andrew."

The elf, who seemed positively delighted by how well the day was going, especially in contrast to the two guardian companions who were making themselves invisible in a far corner, led Serena onto the dance floor and began to guide her around in steady circles to the music.

"The ceremony was wonderful, Andrew. I think you did a marvelous job of capturing the feelings of both of their whirlwind romances."

He laughed, tucking a strand of whitish-blonde hair behind one pointed ear. "Thank you, Lady Serena. And thank you, as well, for making all of this possible. I loathe to think who these two princes would be marrying today had you not come when you did."

Attempting to conceal a blush, Serena shrugged modestly and decided to change the subject. "Have you noticed anything between Raye and Jadeite?"

"Indeed I have. An instant attraction, and perhaps something deeper growing every moment."

She nodded in agreement.

"And have _you _noticed anything between Endymion and his betrothed?"

Serena nearly tripped over her dress. She came to a standstill, her eyes wide as blood crept into her cheeks. "She's here?"

"Oh yes," Andrew murmured nonchalantly, though Serena's shock was embarrassingly obvious. "The royal family of Obelia are always invited to our special ceremonies. Though the king was sadly detained this time, Briar Rose arrived safely this morning. In fact, there she is now, dancing with Prince Endymion." He spun Serena around so that she could get a good look at the couple and her heart plummeted to her feet while all of the blood that had flooded her face a moment before now drained from it completely.

She noticed Endymion first as he towered over most of the guests, dressed in a silver tunic with black piping and gold buttons. Serena shifted her eyes to the girl in his arms, and though their position was typical of all of the dancing couples, she felt a vice clamp around her heart at seeing Endymion's hand rested on the girl's back. The princess had wavy hair of the oddest sea-green color down to her mid-back and Serena noted how some tendrils curled around Endymion's fingers. She was dressed in pale blue silk—the dress elegant and modest. Endymion spun her around and Serena saw her face and barely withheld a whimper. She was exotically beautiful, with pale, china-like skin, a long, slender neck, and almond-shaped blue eyes. Everything, from the way she danced to her posture to the haunted, faraway look in her eyes, screamed _princess._

"Princess Briar Rose," Andrew confirmed, turning Serena away from them. She found herself letting go of a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"Briar Rose," she repeated, as if in a dream. "Sleeping Beauty."

"Yes, yes, the cursed princess. This is only their second meeting—and they were too young to remember the first."

"They seem…" Serena started, then paused, having no words to describe them. "They look lovely together."

"Indeed, they are both quite attractive, aren't they? And each carries themselves with such a distinct aura of royalty."

Serena nodded, watching the colored dresses of women flash by and blinking at the awkward dampness she found filling up her eyes. She mentally attributed it to the perfume-filled air that was certainly having some sort of allergic effect on her.

"I feel that they will make a fine couple. I'm sure they will be considerate and generous toward each other."

Frowning, Serena looked down at Andrew who was watching her with a peculiar glint in his green eyes.

"What are you getting at?"

He shrugged nonchalantly and peered over her shoulder toward the prince and princess.

"Don't you think they're in love?" she pressed.

His lips curled gently upward. "Do _you _think they're in love, Lady Serena?"

He swirled her around again so that her eyes were once again glued to Endymion and Briar Rose. She watched, unblinking, as the princess twirled gracefully beneath his arm, before resting once again at the perfect arm's distance from him. And though his hand was tangled in her long hair and their fingers were delicately caught up together, Serena noticed that they were not looking at each other. In fact, Endymion's gaze seemed to be pointedly sweeping the dance floor, attaching to random couples. Occasionally he would see one of his brothers dancing with their wives and his blue eyes would soften ever-so-slightly beneath the shaggy black bangs, but as the couple danced from view, he would once again appear immune to the loveliness of the event.

And Briar Rose, it seemed, was not really in the ballroom at all. While her feet knew all the proper steps and her body responded instinctively to each of Endymion's leads, her attention was hanging on some invisible point. Once in awhile Serena watched the beautiful princess close her eyes and sigh, before opening them and once again drift off to wherever her imagination was keeping her.

Frowning, Serena looked down at Andrew who was watching her with mute affirmation.

"But…" she stuttered, "but they're engaged to be married."

He nodded. "And I think they will make a lovely couple, don't you?"

"Andrew, why aren't they in love?"

He tilted his head to the side as if pondering her question, before answering, "It is possible, Lady, that we are misreading their signals. Perhaps they are in secret admiration of each other, and both have simply come to be very good at hiding their emotions."

Serena pursed her lips and glowered silently at a curtained wall, not believing Andrew's theory for a moment, and knowing that he didn't either.

"Ah, it looks as though she's leaving."

Turning as the song ended and a quicker waltz began, Serena saw Briar Rose curtsying to the prince, who bowed politely back, before she left the dance floor with ballerina-like grace.

Without bothering to explain to the Guardian of Romance, Serena pulled herself from his arms and hurried after the girl.

She found her a moment later on the balcony overlooking the sea of dresses and tunics, leaning against a pillar with her head down, breathing in shaky breaths. Her green hair wisped mysteriously over her pale skin, her hand clutched in front of her stomach so tight that her knuckles were white, and a sudden sting of pity tore at Serena's heart. She gulped and walked slowly toward the princess who didn't notice her until she reached forward and laid a tentative hand on her elbow.

Jumping, Briar Rose spun around and Serena saw a wildness in her blue eyes that flickered almost instantly away, replaced with cool serenity. The princess straightened herself, neglecting the supportive pillar. "Yes?"

Gulping, Serena tried a small curtsy. "Princess Briar Rose?"

She nodded.

"My name is Serena…" She trailed off, wondering if there was any chance Endymion had mentioned her. No recognition entered the princess's expression, but her polite smile did not fade as she waited for Serena to continue. "I wanted to introduce myself. I'm a guest here in the castle and have heard much about you."

Briar Rose's eyelids fluttered and she dipped her neck in greeting. "A pleasure, Lady Serena," she said, before turning away in an implied dismissal.

"I've heard about your curse," Serena blurted.

The princess paused and turned to face her again, a shadow falling over her face. "Who hasn't?" she asked and Serena caught the first trace of resentment.

"Er, I didn't… The thing is…" She could tell that Briar Rose's patience was quickly faltering, and spat, "I think I can help."

Raising a thin eyebrow, the princess swept her gaze over the blonde speculatively. "Help? My dear girl, every witch and warlock in the land has tried to undo Queen Beryl's curse. I highly doubt that you—"

"I don't mean to break the curse, Princess," Serena interrupted.

"Then what _do_ you mean?"

Serena cleared her throat and proceeded with false confidence. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but the curse is to be broken by love's first kiss, yes?"

Daring to look up, she saw a look of animosity in Briar Rose's eyes. "I am quite aware of what the curse says," she deadpanned.

"I'm sure. It's just… I'm slightly concerned…" Serena fiddled with the skirt of her dress, searching the princess's stare for reassurance but finding only irritation. Finally, inhaling a sharp breath, she asked, "Are you in love with Prince Endymion?"

She expected to see a darker look of annoyance on Briar Rose's beautiful face, but instead she saw only astonishment. The princess watched her silently for a moment, before her gaze swept over the dance floor below them, looking awkward and trapped. Licking her lips, she hesitantly returned her gaze to Serena. "You said you are a guest of the castle?"

"Yes."

"Almost certainly, then, of the royal family?"

"Well, yes," Serena stammered.

Briar Rose nodded and looked away again, a strange sadness filling her eyes. "Prince Endymion is very handsome," she murmured half-heartedly. "And I am sure he is very kind and will make a great king for Obelia. I know that I am lucky to be betrothed to such a fine man." The words seemed forced and practiced . They echoed tragically in Serena's head.

"Then you aren't?" she breathed, finding it near impossible to believe. A strange hope began to grow in her heart and she squashed it as quickly as she could.

The princess turned to her again, the sadness gone and the irritation more evident than before. "What do you _want,_ Lady Serena?"

She gulped. "I want… I only want… for Endymion to find love. And… and for you to find love, too."

Laughing ironically, the princess shook her head and began picking invisible lint from her dress. "And what makes you think that I haven't, Lady?"

"Excuse me?" Serena faltered, searching the princess's face, but when no reply to her outburst was forthcoming, she forced herself to continue, "But if you aren't in love with Endymion, then… are you in love with someone else?"

Briar Rose opened her mouth to speak, but seemed to think better of it. Finally she muttered, "Of course not. It was only hypothetical," before she turned and disappeared into the crowd.

* * *

The three guardians were watching Serena as she traipsed nervously down the steps into the crowded ballroom, clutching the rail. She noticed them and tried to smile a little before heading toward their table, wondering exactly what she would say to them when she didn't have the slightest idea how to fix this fairy tale in the first place. She only hoped that perhaps they would be able to offer some guidance.

A gentle hand on her wrist stopped her before she reached their table, though, and she turned to find herself staring into grinning blue eyes.

"A dance?" Prince Endymion asked in a tone that made rejection impossible, his hand sliding down her arm to grasp her fingers.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, blushing against her will and turning to see the guardians watching her with amused expressions. "I shouldn't!"

"Why not?" Endymion said with a chuckle. "I saw you dancing with Andrew earlier, so I know that you can." Ignoring her half-hearted attempts to decline, the prince pulled her into the cluster of twirling guests and firmly wrapped an arm about her waist. She looked up at him, flushed and wide-eyed, and imagined him holding Briar Rose like this, but she knew that he was now holding her much closer than he had the princess. She gulped.

"Enjoying the festivities, Lady?" he asked, and she could tell he was putting on regal airs—to amuse her, she thought.

"The wedding was lovely," she answered, trying to focus her attention on any of the numerous handsome men dancing around her.

"Yes. You seem like the type of girl who lives for days like these." His voice was teasing, but honest.

Serena forced herself to unclench her jaw and smile. "And to think, in just a few days we'll be celebrating _your_ wedding."

The glimmer in his eyes died and Endymion shifted uncomfortably, before spinning Serena beneath an arm. When she was held close to him again, his tiny, carefree smile had returned. "To think," he responded noncommittally.

"I saw you dancing with her."

"Dancing with who?"

She frowned at his attempts to dodge the conversation. "Your fiancé, Princess Briar Rose."

"Ah, my _betrothed_. Yes, we did share a dance, didn't we? And what of you? I think the elf was the only man I saw you with earlier. I hope you haven't been turning all of your suitors away, waiting for me to ask for a dance." Before she could respond, he craned his neck so that their noses were almost touching. "I assure you, Mi'lady, I would have asked long ago if I could have escaped sooner."

Her eyelids fluttered in time with her heart as he pulled away and spun her again. She used the opportunity of not being trapped in his warm arms to shake herself from the stupor he'd put her in and when, a moment later, his hand was on her back once more, she gathered her wits and plowed on. "She sure is _beautiful. _I think you're very lucky that your parents chose for you such a suitable bride."

"Ah, but there are many _beautiful_ girls," he whispered.

She gulped. "And graceful, too. I thought she was an excellent dancer."

His grin widened as he pulled her close, before turning her into a low dip. She gasped, finding her hands instinctively around his neck as his arms encircled her. "It takes two," he murmured, before bringing her to her feet again and continuing the dance without missing a step.

Serena shook her head and desperately tried to sort through the emotions tumbling within her. Finally, she blurted, "What's wrong with her?" Endymion tilted his head and looked at her with simple curiosity.

"I never said anything was wrong with her."

Exasperated, Serena threw her hands into the air, but Endymion stole the opportunity to dip her again. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders with a squeal and found her lips mere inches from his. Her breath snagged and she felt dizzy and weightless, trapped in his stormy gaze.

"Why aren't you in love with her?" she breathed in a last attempt to avoid the hopeless situation Endymion seemed determined to throw them into.

His lips twitched, but then he looked suddenly sad and lonely. Serena impulsively tightened her arms around him.

"She treats me like a prince, and like an obligation," he said and Serena's breath snagged—was he really confiding in her? "She doesn't make me smile, and she doesn't make me laugh. She doesn't care about my family or my kingdom. And though she's beautiful now, when I try to picture what she will be like in twenty or thirty years, I can think of her only as cold and distant. I want a wife who will be warm and loving and witty even as we grow old."

A silence draped over them, awkward and gripping, before Serena muttered, "I was under the impression you didn't want a wife at all."

His eyes never left her, even if he did look momentarily as if he'd been caught in a terrible lie. "Funny what seeing your brothers madly in love can do to a guy, I suppose. I do think my opinions of the institution may have become somewhat effected."

Having nothing else to say as her heart pounded furiously against her ribs, Serena mustered a pathetic, "Oh."

Slowly, Endymion lifted her to standing as the song ended. It took her a moment to find the strength to hold herself, but as soon as she did, she pulled safely away from him and forced herself into a curtsy. He bowed in return, his eyes watching her, glinting strangely with an emotion she feared to place.

Wetting her lips and trying to draw in steady breaths, Serena turned to leave the dance floor and just as she did so her eyes met with those of pale crystalline blue watching her from the ballroom steps. Gasping, Serena clutched a guilty hand to her chest, but Briar Rose did not look jealous or angry. If anything, she had a look of infinite understanding on her pale features. A tiny smile lifted the corners of her lips and, with an almost unperceivable nod, she turned and swept out of the room.

* * *

"Nothing happened!" Serena all but screamed, pacing around her bedroom as the three guardians watched from the foot of her bed. "We just danced!"

"It's just that you seemed _awfully_ close," murmured Hota.

"Look, I know it probably looked bad, but I swear there is nothing between Endymion and me! I'm really trying to get him to fall in love with Briar Rose. Honest!"

The guardians exchanged speculative glances and Serena threw her arms into the air. "Look, _he_ dipped _me._ What was I supposed to do about it?"

"Well, you could have tried to look like you weren't enjoying it so much," suggested Andrew.

"What? I was not—I didn't—gah!" Kicking her feet, Serena flung her slippers into a far corner. "He's just a good dancer, that's all! It just felt… It just feels pleasant dancing with him. All right? Is that so terrible?"

"What did Briar Rose say when you talked to her?" asked Andrew, and normally Serena would have been grateful for the change of topic, but that conversation seemed even less likely to earn the guardians' approval.

"Well, erm, she said… that… she thinks Prince Endymion is handsome."

"Well, good, at least we know she isn't blind," muttered Hota.

"And she felt that he would make a good ruler of her kingdom."

Their eyes watched her, silently urging her to continue.

Serena gulped, wringing her hands. Finally, with a groan, she collapsed to the floor, her skirt billowing onto the carpet around her. "She doesn't love him!" she wailed. "I don't know why, but it's obvious that she doesn't! In fact, I… I think…I think she might be in love with someone else."

Seiya snorted, but Andrew jumped to his feet with a humorless laugh. "Someone _else?_ How could she be in love with someone else?"

"I don't know! I've been here for less than two weeks; I haven't quite had time to digest all of the complex love triangles yet."

"Well, who is it?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

"This is awful. Are you sure?"

"Well… no, not entirely. But it seemed pretty obvious…"

Tucking his bangs behind his tall ears, Andrew sat on the bed again and leaned his elbows on his knees. "We have to find out who he is, of course."

Serena nodded uncertainly. "Of course."

"And quickly," added Hota. "Her birthday is only three days away—the curse could come to pass any minute now."

"And without love's first kiss…" hinted Andrew. "This mystery lover of hers could answer many questions. We must know who it is in order to make sure everything goes according to plan. Otherwise it could ruin everything."

Serena frowned, feeling like maybe Andrew was overreacting just a tad, when a thought occurred to her and she jumped happily to her feet. "Perhaps it's another prince!" she cried hopefully. "Of course a prince awakens the sleeping beauty, but perhaps Endymion is not the prince to do so. Perhaps she's been wrongly betrothed." She smiled expectantly but the guardians did not look convinced and so she stubbornly added, "It's possible."

Drawing fingers over his chin, Andrew conceded as if the thought were very disturbing, "Yes, I suppose it is possible."

A knock at the door startled them. "Come in," called Serena.

A young maid opened the door and curtsied. "Pardon my intrusion. Her Majesty of Obelia, the Princess Briar Rose, has requested the honor of Lady Serena's presence in her quarters."

Serena turned to the guardians, who only shrugged back at her. "Can't very well decline the request of a princess, can I?" she asked.

"Lady Serena," said Andrew as she started toward the door. "Can you recall any story in which the betrothed prince and princess did not fall in love?"

She hesitated, pondering the question, before slowly shaking her head.

"Neither can I. The situation may look dreary now, Chosen One, but don't give up on those two just yet."

* * *

_Please review._


	18. The Beanstalk

I feel I should hold a short Q&A due to some reviewers' recent questions. For anyone interested:

**The Outers?**

Will all be in this story. For those who didn't pick up on it yet, Hota is Hotaru and Briar Rose is Michiru. You have not yet met Haruka or Setsuna (both of their names will change as well, but I hope you'll know them when you see them).

**How true are you being to Grimm's stories?**

Not completely true. Though I've tried to use Grimm's version, rather than the Disney-ized versions, I've had to make many changes to fit my own storyline. Don't hesitate to ask me for the true version of any story you're curious about.

**Are all the stories referenced by the Grimm Brothers?**

No, which will be explained in the story.

**Thumbelina? The True Bride?**

I know one reviewer has put in a request for Thumbelina to make an appearance, but I'm afraid she won't. Sorry, I just couldn't figure out how to squeeze her in! As for The True Bride, I realize it's my fault for putting in an ambiguous quote, but the quote was only for its relativity to the story. The True Bride will not play a part of this fic.

That's all I can think of for now. If any other questions continue to pop up I'll try to answer them.

Thanks to all reviewers and my wonderful editor, Phantasy Star.

Enjoy!

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 18: The Beanstalk  
_The beans his mother had thrown out the window had turned into a  
massive beanstalk that grew up and up and up until it reached the sky.  
_from Jack and the Beanstalk

Briar Rose was sitting at her vanity when Serena entered, staring unseeing into her mirror. She jumped when the maid announced Serena's arrival, but her composure was soon regained.

The maid curtsied and ducked out and Serena was left wringing her hands as Briar Rose ran a hairbrush quickly through her thick hair. The sight reminded Serena of the horrible glimpse into the dark well by Snow White's cottage—the shadow girl being stabbed with a poison comb, red lips evilly smirking…. Serena shook off the memory.

"You asked to see me?"

"Yes," the princess murmured, pushing her chair away from the vanity and standing. "Please, have a seat." She gestured to a pair of soft chairs by a large, curtained window.

Serena complied and Briar Rose sat across from her. "Would you like some tea?"

"No, thank you."

"Wine? Coffee?"

"I'm fine, thanks."

The princess nodded and leaned back in her chair.

After an uncomfortable silence, Serena began, "Was there something—"

"I wanted to apologize for my coldness toward you at the reception."

"Oh," Serena hesitated. "Oh, that's all right. I know it was a sensitive subject."

"When you told me that you wanted to help, I assumed… I didn't think that our objectives would be so similar."

Serena blinked, then cautiously asked, "What objectives?"

"Terminating the engagement between Prince Endymion and myself."

Serena coughed as color rushed to her cheeks. "You see, I'm not sure we really do share that objective…."

Smiling fondly, Briar Rose reached out a hand and patted Serena's arm. "It's all right, Lady Serena. You can talk freely with me. We're on the same side now."

"I didn't realize we were choosing sides."

"And after seeing how Endymion looked at you, I'm sure we could enlist his help as well, don't you think?"

"Er, his help… for… What do you mean how he looked at me?"

Briar Rose giggled as if Serena had said something very silly. "Honestly, don't be so shy. How can Endymion marry you when he's engaged to me?"

Serena choked, looking down at her hands to catch her breath. Before she could protest, Briar Rose continued, "And obviously I can't marry whom I choose either, so long as this silly betrothal continues. Don't you think we should both be permitted to marry for love?"

Looking up, Serena saw Briar Rose watching her with so much hope shining in her eyes that she felt guilt and shame rise up in her stomach. Sitting straighter, she took Briar Rose's hands into hers. "Who is it? Who are you so in love with that you would choose him over Endymion?"

Her gaze softening, Briar Rose lowered her eyelashes with a tiny smile on her lips.

Serena's hands tightened. "Is it another prince? From another kingdom? One who could break the spell?"

Meeting her stare, Briar Rose's smile remained, though her eyes held a deep sadness. "No, he isn't a prince."

Serena felt her excitement plummet.

"In fact, he's just.… He's a huntsman."

"A huntsman?"

"Yes. And I know what you're thinking," Briar Rose pulled her hands from Serena's grip and stood up, turning toward the window. "You're thinking that I must be out of my mind. A princess like me, falling for a common huntsman like him. And I always thought I was crazy, too, that there must be something wrong with me. But not anymore. Not after the wedding today." She laughed and turned back to Serena. "I've heard the stories, of course. One bride a lowly servant who managed to slip into the ball without an invitation, the other found in a tower deep in the woods with little knowledge of any social graces. Neither were royalty! Neither were even _nobility._ And then there is Princess Mina, who was the daughter of a mere farmer before it was discovered that she could spin straw into gold." She shook her head, smiling. "If Aysel can do it, why can't Obelia? Why can't I marry Alex?"

"Alex," Serena repeated.

"He may not be rich or titled, but he is brave and strong and would excel as a ruler."

Serena lowered her head, her shoulders shaking. "But, the curse…"

"The curse does not say it needs to be a prince, only that it will be love's first kiss."

"The story says it must be a prince," Serena whispered to herself.

"And it is love, Lady Serena. It has always been love. I can remember the first time I saw him. I was only thirteen. He was quite a bit older but I couldn't help being drawn to him. He was covered in dirt and unshaven, seeking sanctuary in our castle. He has never told me the whole story, but I know that he risked his own life to save another, and I don't believe he has any regrets…" Her voice was whimsical as she paced to the window and drew back the curtains to stare out onto a star-filled sky. "I have loved him from the first moment, and though he's never said it—his honor would not allow him to—I know he loves me too." She turned her eyes, quickly filling with tears, back to Serena. "You have to help me cancel this wedding."

Serena turned away. "I don't know…"

"If not for me, then do it for you and Endymion. Don't you love him?"

Every muscle in Serena's body tensed.

"It's all right. I understand that you've been trying to hide your feelings, to protect yourself from almost certain disappointment, but you don't have to hide them anymore. If we can talk to King Artemis and Queen Luna, and then my father…. Make them understand. Explain to them… Surely they can't hold us to this engagement once they know how we all feel, can they?"

"It isn't that simple."

"It's only more difficult because society has made it that way. What's the use of us all being miserable?"

Serena rubbed her fingers over her eyes. "Briar Rose, I think you should take some time to consider what it is you're suggesting."

"Time?" she cried, as if Serena had just asked her to chop off her own hand. "We don't have any time! The wedding is in four days!"

"Yes, but if you don't wake up from that curse, there won't be a wedding, regardless of _who _the groom is!"

Briar Rose pursed her lips so that they turned white. After a short pause, she inhaled shakily and sat in the chair beside Serena again. "Who is to say that Prince Endymion will even be able to wake me? If he doesn't love me, and I don't love him…"

"I know, I know," Serena muttered. "I'm still working on that part. It's just that if you were in love with a prince, I could see how the betrothals were possibly mixed up, but…"

"Why must I force my heart to choose based on society's restrictions? The princes of this kingdom haven't."

Leaning back, Serena stared up at the ornately carved ceiling. "I'm going to try to make everything all right. I'm not sure exactly how yet, but I'll get this all figured out. In the meantime, I need you to do two things for me."

"And what would those be?"

"First, I want you to try and give Endymion a chance."

The princess scoffed. "What's the point? Even if I did have some interest in him, he's so taken by you that—"

"There is nothing between Prince Endymion and me," Serena interrupted, "And all I'm asking is that you give him a _chance. _Get to know him a little. Just in case."

Briar Rose frowned but didn't argue further. "And your second request?"

"Well, it slightly contradicts the first one, but I think you should have Alex summoned to the castle."

Raising her eyebrows, the princess slowly turned away from Serena and lowered her gaze to the floor. "He's already in the castle," she murmured.

"What? He's here?"

Briar Rose nodded. "His skills and swordsmanship have earned him a place as one of my private guards. As such, he and one other have made this trip with me."

"Where is he now?"

"I'm not sure. The hallway, the next room? My royal guards are rarely in sight, yet never far. They protect me well."

Serena nodded in understanding and stood to leave. "That's probably for the best. Briar Rose, it may be wise not to speak of this to anyone just yet. I'll see what I can do, but it won't help for you to go stirring things up unnecessarily."

Standing beside her, Briar Rose grabbed Serena's wrist and Serena thought she detected desperation behind her eyes. "You'll try, though, won't you, Serena? To cancel the wedding? To break off the engagement?"

Gulping, Serena patted the girl's hand as warmly as she could. "I'll try to make everything all right."

* * *

The morning after the double wedding was gray and drizzly, as if the summer had used its last spurt of energy the day before and now autumn was truly taking over—winter on its heels. Serena lay in bed long after she'd woken up, listening to the rain on the balcony and thinking of all that had happened since she had arrived in this strange land. From the death of Rumpelstiltskin to the hunt for Cinderella, the defeat of the two witches to her conversation with Briar Rose, it seemed impossible to think she'd been there for less than two weeks. In some ways this world, this castle, was beginning to feel a little bit like a home, and the princes and their wives and the guardians were all beginning to feel a little bit like family.

But not entirely, she thought, realizing for the first time in days that she was homesick. She missed the familiar scent of the arcade and the taste of sugar cookies from the bakery down the street. She missed her classmates and the shopping center. She missed her mother desperately. She missed Melvin. She missed watching Darien Shields walking down the halls on his way to class.

She shook her head against the pillow as her mind conjured two images of a grinning Darien—one in his un-ironed school uniform, the other in a silver tunic. It seemed that all her life she'd been dreaming of this place with its golden wheat fields and soaring castle towers and magic spells and graceful princesses and excitement and danger and romance, and now that she was living it she was beginning to recognize all the magic that her own world had. The life she'd known had been familiar and comfortable and warm, like hot cocoa on a winter night. It may not have been adventurous, but it was a good life filled with love and friends and a bright, promising future. She didn't know what the future in this new world held for her.

Pulling a white chenille robe on over her pajamas, Serena paced to the window and stood watching the rain dripping down the glass, blurring the world beneath her. The music it created lulled her into a dazed state and she felt warm and protected in her room in the castle. For a moment she felt free of responsibility and allowed herself to enjoy nature's poetry. She forbid herself to think of Prince Endymion or Briar Rose or betrothals or curses. All in good time, she would figure it out.

Movement in the garden caught her eye and Serena curiously leaned closer to the window, peering into the dark. Clutching the front of her robe, she opened the glass to gain a clearer view and was able to recognize Raye walking down in the garden, wrapped in a thick cloak with the hood down. Her head was tilted back. The rain shone silver in her black hair and her skin glowed with the lights from the castle. She was angelic and content beneath the sky's showers.

Serena smiled, the girl's tranquility contagious, but a moment later her heart skipped to see another figure coming out of the castle, slowly but deliberately, with a fur blanket clutched in his arms. Jadeite approached Raye in measured strides, stepping loudly into a puddle to alert her of his presence. She turned to him and Serena thought she saw a smile alighting her crimson lips as Jadeite held out the fur blanket and, a moment later, they were both wrapped up in it with their smiling faces held up toward the sky.

Serena's heart quickened delightedly at the sight. The circumstances between Endymion and Briar Rose had been plaguing her thoughts so much that she'd nearly forgotten about the fifth prince. She was elated to see that Jadeite and Raye seemed to be doing just fine without her help. She hoped things stayed that way.

"Ahem."

Serena gasped and turned away from the window to see Andrew standing in the doorway with a tray in his hands.

"My apologies, Lady, but I don't think you heard my knocking."

"No, I didn't," Serena amended, shutting the window and tightening the belt of her robe. "What did you bring me?"

Andrew didn't bother to answer, but set the tray down for Serena to peruse the assorted pastries as he poured two cups of coffee.

"Thanks, Andrew! You're the best!" she said, eagerly grabbing a warm apple strudel.

He chuckled. "I'm afraid my motives are quite selfish. I wanted to have a word with you." He topped off Serena's cup with just the right amounts of cream and sugar—he must have been paying attention during their excursion to the Penelope Mansion—and set it on her nightstand while she lazily crawled beneath the covers, enjoying her breakfast in bed.

"A word about what?" Serena asked, finishing the strudel and following it with a sip of coffee and a happy sigh before reaching for a poppy seed muffin.

"I was curious about your conversation with the princess last night. I was hoping that perhaps something was said that would enlighten us all in the situation between her and Prince Endymion."

Serena frowned and set the muffin down on her nightstand, taking another sip of coffee. "Well," she began, "she... wants me to help her break off the engagement."

Andrew's face fell and he sadly shook his head. "I was afraid of that."

"Andrew, it seems to me that there's been a mistake in the betrothal between Briar Rose and Endymion. They obviously aren't in love with each other, so... why should we force them into this marriage? This can't really be their happy ending, can it?"

Andrew drew his legs onto the bed. There was a moment of silence in which it was apparent that the elf was searching for the right words, before he began to speak. "Lady Serena, you are perhaps unaware of a certain gift that Hota, Seiya, and myself were given at the beginning of our occupations that aid us in our respective roles as guardians. As I'm sure you're aware, there is a good deal of magic in this world. It is a form of sustenance to all of the people of this land and all the kingdoms therein. It is powerful and inescapable. Often it surrounds us like a gentle breeze, pleasant but not overwhelming. Other times it is like a stormy gale that could topple stone walls. While magic surrounds all people and affects all people, it is stronger with some than with others. For most, it is a subtle force that may, once in awhile, make their evening meal taste a little better or keep the fire in their hearth burning a little longer. But there are some for whom the magic wounds around so tightly that it can pull them toward a destiny of immense adventure, tragedy, or love." Andrew licked his lips, unsure of how to continue. He searched Serena's eyes to see if she was following his explanation, then proceeded, "The other guardians and I are drawn to these people. The magic that encompasses them is often so thick that it is almost tangible to us. Hota can often tell if a person is destined for great acts of heroism, Seiya can perceive who will fall into horrific despair, and I am often aware of destined romances, sometimes even before the first spark of attraction."

"Okay..." Serena said, slowly. "And you've seen, or felt, a romantic destiny between Endymion and Briar Rose?"

Andrew frowned. "Yes, and no. My fellow guardians and I were all present at the blessing ceremony of Briar Rose, not a week after her birth. As is customary, we all bestowed upon her gifts that we believed would be helpful to her as she grew into a young woman, and eventually a queen. I gave her the gift of beauty, Hota gave her the gift of courage, and Seiya gave her the gift of compassion."

"And the curse..."

"Yes, this was also the fateful day that Queen Beryl came, uninvited, and bestowed the princess with the curse of death by the prick of a spinning wheel. Of course, that curse was changed not long after, but we're getting off topic." He inhaled a deep breath, and started again, "Also present at this ceremony was the royal family of Aysel, for it was to also be the day of betrothal of the princess and the youngest prince. Lady Serena, you ask why I would want to force them into a marriage when they do not love each other, and I assure you I have no desire to do so. However, that day, as the young prince's mother brought him to the cradle of the tiny princess (for he was still a babe himself)..." An intent look crossed Andrew's features as he became lost in the memory, "there was a magic of such intense, unmistakable love between the two that it was staggering. I have never, in all my long life as a guardian, seen such a perfect, destined love."

Serena took an uncertain sip of her coffee and grimaced to find that it had gone cold. Setting it down she turned to face the rain-soaked window. "But then, why...?"

"I don't know," Andrew answered. "As the years have gone by, the magic that once so encompassed Endymion has faded away to near nonexistence. In fact, due to the destruction and misery that Queen Beryl has wrought on the land, much of the magic that once was so powerful in this world has disappeared. It is only at rare times that we guardians are able to ascertain it at all, and then only on beings who carry it most strongly around them. Endymion—magic clings to him like none I have ever known, but even now my glimpses of it are rare. I was hoping that as his wedding date approached, the bond between him and Briar Rose would strengthen and become what it once was. And it is true that the aura surrounding the prince has become steadily brighter the last few weeks, but it is nothing like it was the day of their betrothal." He shook his head with a baffled expression. "I cannot make heads or tails of it. I have been wracking my brain to figure out why this love, that was once so pure and beautiful, would now be nothing more than mild acceptance. Even Beryl's evil should not be able to eradicate such a thing.

"Lady Serena, this is precisely the type of dilemma that we need your assistance for. These sorts of problems, this confusion with the magic, this... changing of the magic, never used to occur. Destinies are not supposed to mix or falter or change as they have been. I know that I could not have been mistaken about the love between Endymion and Briar Rose so many years ago, and if it can be fixed, it must be. It is the only way we can set things straight."

Serena pursed her lips and mulled over all that Andrew had said, trying to imagine Endymion loving Briar Rose with as much intensity as Andrew seemed to think he should, and she found that she could not. Still, he was the Guardian of Romance, and if he believed what he had seen was the real thing, she could think of no dispute against him. "I'll try," she murmured.

"Thank you. I, of course, shall assist you in any way that I can."

"There is one thing that perhaps will provide some answers."  
"And what is that, my lady?"

"Briar Rose told me about the man that she is supposedly in love with last night."  
Andrew sat up straighter. "Is that so?"

"His name is Alex. He's part of her personal guard and she says that she's loved him since she was thirteen, since she first met him."

"I see," Andrew hummed thoughtfully.

"Would it be possible for you to… to do some research, see what you can find out about him? Maybe he's the key to all of this."

"It has potential," Andrew agreed, stroking his chin. "I'll look into it. In the meantime, you will continue to talk with her and Endymion? See if you can't spark something, anything, between them?"

"I'll try," she repeated.

Seemingly content with that response, Andrew stood to leave, but as he approached the bedroom door, Serena called his name and he turned back.

"If you and Hota and Seiya had already given your blessing to Briar Rose when Queen Beryl cursed her, who changed the spell from death to sleep?"

Andrew's lips curled up subtly. "Why, Master Grimm did, of course," he said, before disappearing into the hallway. A moment later, Serena heard Andrew's cheerful voice exclaiming, "Oh, good morning, Prince Endymion!" She gasped and pulled the blankets up to her shoulders, running her fingers through her tangled hair. Then, upon realizing just what it was she was doing, she stopped with a scowl that should have been directed at herself but was instead the expression Endymion first saw upon entering her chambers.

Stopping half a step into the room, Endymion instantly shot up an eyebrow. "And what has you in such a grumpy mood?" he asked teasingly as Serena forced her expression into something more welcoming, a blush tinting her cheeks.

"Nothing," she huffed.

Endymion strutted toward the tray of goodies, selecting an apple turnover and re-filling Andrew's deserted mug with coffee.

"Are girls always this lazy where you come from?"

"I'm not being lazy! I feel like I haven't stopped moving since the day I got here, and it has been a very busy two weeks, I'll gladly remind you. A girl deserves a day off from time to time."

"Well, be that as it may, today shall not be that day. Come on, get dressed."

"Why?" Serena whined, collapsing onto her pillows and pulling the covers over her head. "I'm determined not to do a darn thing today. Don't ruin it."

Endymion smiled at her dramatic sniffling and walked around to her side of the massive canopy bed. "If you don't come out of there, I'm crawling in with you."

Quickly, her eyes appeared over the top of the comforter, glaring at him. "You wouldn't."

"Oh?" He grabbed the blankets and began to slip off his shoes to prove his point, but Serena's arm shot out to hold down the covers with stubborn intensity. "I'll tell the king!"

Laughing, Endymion tried a different tactic, grabbing the blankets and pulling them off the bed in one fell swoop. Serena screamed and desperately tried to catch them, but was left scrambling over the bed to no avail.

"You jerk!" she screeched and lunged for the cackling prince—but the belt of her robe caught on one of the bedposts and she soon felt herself tumbling to the ground and landing in a heap of pillows and sheets.

The scene too much. Endymion collapsed to the floor beside her, clutching his stomach with both arms.

Scowling, but discovering herself more or less unharmed, Serena picked herself off the pile of bedding, straightened out and retied her robe, and marched over to the breakfast tray. A moment later, Endymion's laughter was promptly stifled by the insertion of a cherry donut in his mouth.

Harrumphing, Serena proudly dusted powdered sugar from her hands and began throwing the blankets back onto her bed.

"Dear Grimm, you're cute when you're mad."

Her eyes widening, Serena's common sense wasn't quick enough to prevent the blood from rushing to her face—again. Spinning to face him, masking the delighted thumping of her heart with stubborn anger, she yelled, "Hey! You are not allowed to flatter me after laughing at me like that!"

Endymion's lips quirked as he licked some cherry filling from his fingers. "Ah, but you're cute when you're being a klutz, too."

Drawing her brow down furiously, Serena pointed to the door. "Get out of my room! I don't recall inviting you in anyway!"

Bouncing to his feet, Endymion shook his head. "No can do, Oh Great Chosen One. I have something to show you. Now get dressed—and make it warm; it's raining unicorns out there."

"Raining unicorns?"

"Sure," he said nonchalantly, pushing her toward her dressing chambers. "What does it rain where you come from?"

"Cats and dogs."

"See? Which do you think is stranger?" He didn't wait for her to answer as he slid the dressing room door closed.

"How much farther?" she whined, shivering beneath her two—yes, two—wool cloaks.

"Only about a quarter of a mile," answered Endymion, "horizontally."

"Horizontally? What does that mean?"

"There, you can see it!" Endymion said, wrapping an arm around Serena's shoulder and pointing.

It took a long time of staring through the incessant shower for Serena to see what he was pointing at, but then she did with a loud gasp. "What is it?" she whispered, feeling warm for the first time since they'd left the castle with the heat of Endymion's arm around her.

"It's called a beanstalk. They're very rare. This one just sprouted a few days ago. It wasn't there when we left to go hunting, but I caught sight of it on our way back. I would have told you about it earlier, but everything's been so turbulent lately. Besides, I wanted to check it out first, make sure it's safe."

"But... Jack and the Beanstalk isn't a Grimm tale..."

"Who isn't a what?"

"Nevermind," Serena hastily amended, once again looking up at the beanstalk with a feeling of unease. "So... it's beautiful and all, but... we aren't going to _climb_ it, are we?"

"Of course we are," he said with an expression somewhere between surprise and teasing. "It's not as bad as it looks. Plus, about forty feet up it turns into a staircase."

His arm was suddenly gone and Serena could have kicked herself for missing it, but the feeling of loss almost immediately disintegrated as Endymion reached for her gloved hand and began guiding her along the forest floor.

Serena would have been forced to admit that, of all the familiarities outlined in this fairy tale land, the beanstalk was one that her imagination had been completely wrong about. When reading "Jack and the Beanstalk," she'd always thought of the great vine to be like an oversized tree trunk, brown and green with giant, flat leaves, and knotholes and tangled vines clinging to it. She now discovered, however, that the stalk was more like a living tower. It was about the diameter of a water well, with a shining silver-green surface that had, she noticed as they came closer, an almost obnoxiously obvious ladder sprouting from one side. Whereas she'd always thought the beanstalk would be daunting, this one was practically _begging_ someone to climb it.

She couldn't help but think that her idea had been better.

"Ladies first," Endymion said when they reached the base.

Serena reached out to feel the ladder, finding that the overhanging canopy of the forest had left the ladder pleasantly dry—and it even felt eerily warm. Frowning, she looked up, but whatever there was to see of the beanstalk disappeared past the first level of foliage overhead. "Is this dangerous?"

"Come now, would I ask you to do something dangerous?"

She turned a cool scowl on him, and his sarcastic smile widened.

"Honestly, Endymion, don't you know what _lives_ at the top of beanstalks?"

"Of course I do, and I see that, once again, your knowledge of our world is impeccable. Don't worry, Sere, the giant will be sleeping at this time of day, and there's something—well, someone, I guess—that I want you to meet."

"Who?"

"You'll have to climb to find out."

* * *

_Please review._


	19. The Singing Harp

Many thanks to all reviewers and my fabulous editor Phantasy Star (who calls this a heart-attack chapter, so brace yourselves, dear readers).

Enjoy!

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 19: The Singing Harp

_The beanstalk ran up like a big ladder, so Jack climbed,  
and he climbed, and he climbed, until at last he reached the sky._

from Jack and the Beanstalk

They climbed for about forty feet, as Endymion had said, before a platform jutted from the wall, wide enough for four adults to stand comfortably. They took a short break and Serena looked around at the forest around them, noticing birds' nests that she never would have seen from the ground, and gazing at the reds and golds of the rain-slicked autumn leaves. She felt like she was standing in a large, living treasure chest.

Soon, Endymion urged them to continue, this time up a staircase that spiraled around the stalk. When Serena started to puff for air, Endymion slowed the pace, but they didn't stop, even as they cleared the top of the forest and the rain began to assault them once again. This was also about the same time that the stalk kindly sprouted a railing for them to hold onto as they climbed.

The excitement was just turning into misery for Serena—her legs sore and the rain about to seep through the last layer of clothing when she looked up and gasped, startled to see that they'd reached the sky. At least she assumed it was the sky. Overhead, a ceiling of gray, spongy material stretched out in all directions, dripping heavily like condensation drips from a mirror. Endymion grinned at her as he reached up and pulled on a handle stuck right into the rain cloud, opening a small hidden door.

"Welcome to the castle in the sky," he announced, holding the door for Serena to climb through. She stumbled into a cellar-like room with cold gray walls lined with racks and racks of dusty wine bottles.

Enormous dusty wine bottles, that is. The smallest was about the size of Serena herself.

"This way," said Endymion, snapping Serena from her awed reverie. He took her hand again and led her toward a door that must have stood fifty feet high. By getting on their stomachs, they could slide comfortably through the space between the door and the cold stone floor. On the other side, Serena found herself facing what must have been to the castle's owner a short staircase. To Serena, however, the top of each step hovered out of reach, even on tiptoes.

"Don't worry," said Endymion as he dragged her toward a wall on their right. "There's a rat hole over here."

Serena froze when she saw the gaping hole in the wall that Endymion so nonchalantly referred to as a rat hole. It was round and dark and at least four feet wide. Squeaking, Serena tightened her grip on Endymion's hand. "Rats? Of that size? There is no way I'm going in there!"

"Relax," Endymion chided, continuing to pull her along. "The rat that created this hole has been gone a long, long time. Just look at how thick the dust is in here."

"But… if there were human-size rats, just think what else there might be!" Serena wailed, imagining cobwebs the size of houses and having dangerous flashbacks to Godzilla vs. Mothra.

Endymion turned to face her as she peered past his shoulder in the pitch-black depth of the hole, and a second later, Serena squealed as Endymion's arms wound around her waist and she was pulled gently against his chest. "Don't worry, my fairest lady. I'm the best hunter in all the land. I'll protect you."

Though his voice was soft and determined, the look on his face told Serena that he was truly teasing her and, furrowing her brow, she pushed him away. "You're so cocky!" she screamed as he burst into laughter—probably at her cherry-red face.

"Come on," he coaxed, ignoring her fuming anger and sauntering into the hole.

"But it's so dark! We can't see in there!"

"Not to worry, damsel in distress! I stashed these away when I came to check it out last time." A moment later, there was a spark as a torch came to life in Endymion's hand. It seemed to completely illuminate the rat hole and Serena cautiously came closer, peering inside as Endymion held it in the direction of a tunnel. There was, indeed, about three inches of dust on the floor with one pair of footprints—Endymion's no doubt—disappearing in the direction of the staircase, but otherwise it seemed devoid of life.

"Shall we?"

Pursing her lips, Serena cast a longing glance toward the door that led back into the cellar and out of the giant's castle, before following Endymion into the hole.

The tunnel sloped gradually upward but there were no barriers for them to pass and it seemed like they were walking up the incline for hours with no change in the tunnel's interior. Eventually, Endymion paused and had Serena hold the torch while he rummaged through his cloak's large pockets, producing two rolls and a hunk of cheese. Serena could have kissed him at that moment, but she instead greedily took the roll and devoured it with minimal chewing—not having realized just how hungry she'd been. The thought made her wonder how long it had been since they left her room, half of the pastries still untouched.

After their small meal, they continued on, but it wasn't much longer before the tunnel veered to the right and a hint of light could be seen in the distance. Serena's step became more buoyant and she found herself anxious to leave the dark, stifling tunnel behind and Endymion had to hold onto the hood of her cloak to keep her from running to the opening.

"Not so fast," said Endymion, chuckling. "We're still in the home of a giant. We need to be cautious."

Serena turned back to Endymion, her face paling. "I thought you said he'd be napping!"

"And he should be, but that's no reason for us to get reckless." He wrapped his arm around her neck and tugged lightly on a pigtail. "Now who's being cocky?"

Endymion took the lead as they got closer to the entrance and, when the light became bright enough, extinguished the torch against the wall and hid it and his flint in a corner. Serena waited silently while the prince stuck his head out through the hole and looked around. "Coast is clear." Grabbing her hand, Endymion led her from the dark tunnel and Serena inhaled a breath full of relief to be out of the hole.

Wasting no time, Endymion headed left and Serena let herself be dragged as she gawked around with a hanging jaw. They were in a corridor of sorts, with candle chandeliers the size of houses casting a warm glow over stone walls and plush carpets that came to Serena's ankles—she imagined the carpet was probably pretty worn down, too. There were few decorations on the walls but far away Serena thought she noticed a window with heavy purple draperies, and knew that she would have loved to look out of it. Of course, the sill was at least 20 feet overhead, so even if Endymion had taken her in that direction, it would have been far too much work to get a peek of the giant outdoors.

They continued at a quick stride, down one hallway that stretched out for miles before her, then turning down another, and once more until Endymion finally stopped at a closed door. "Here we are," he said, his eyes twinkling as he gestured for Serena to crawl beneath the door—which she did with little hesitation, so curious had she become.

On the other side, she pulled herself to standing and gasped.

Endymion, beside her in an instant, folded his arms smugly over his chest. "Now aren't you glad I made you get out of bed?"

Speechless, Serena let her eyes roam over what surely must have been the giant's treasure room. On one massive table she saw gold coins the size of her head piled up in neat stacks. In a corner was an open chest overflowing in exotic silks and embroidered satins. A wall of bookshelves appeared to be lined with anything but books—a gigantic warrior's helmet, pearl necklaces that undoubtedly came from monster-size oysters, a string of bronze and silver keys, three swords with studded hilts, a huge peacock feather pen and crystal inkwell, and more glittering and sparkling jewels than Serena's eyes could take in at once.

"Don't forget to breathe."

Immediately, Serena sucked in a huge breath and turned to Endymion with awestruck eyes. "It's amazing!" she whispered.

"I thought you would like it."

"But… isn't this dangerous? I mean, if there was any place where the giant really wouldn't want intruders to go, wouldn't this be it?"

"Probably, but we should still be safe for awhile. There is one easy way to find out, though. Come on, I have someone I want you to meet."

"What? There's someone _alive_ here?"

"Well… kind of." Endymion led Serena to the bottom of the bookshelf, of which they could step onto the lowest shelf without ducking. Serena watched as Endymion approached a giant blue handkerchief that was draped over something oddly shaped and whisked it away.

Covering her mouth in surprise, Serena found herself blinking at a woman. Or a harp. Or a gold woman attached to a gold harp, who was not much taller than Serena, and even, she guessed, a hair shorter than Endymion. Serena couldn't be sure what shocked her the most: the fact that she was staring at a woman who was half harp, or that the woman seemed to be made of gold, or that the woman was of average size, or that the woman was blinking back at her.

"Serena, meet Trista. Trista, this is Lady Serena."

"How do you do?" Trista asked in a lilting, harmonic voice.

Gulping, and feeling silly for overreacting when Trista was staring at her so calmly, Serena reached forward to shake a proffered hand. "It's lovely to meet you," she responded shakily.

Everything on Trista seemed to be made of solid gold—from the flowing, relatively soft-looking hair, half of which piled in a bun on top of her head, the rest flowing down past her waist; to the light, gauzy dress that reminded Serena of Greek goddesses; to her skin and lips and fingernails. Her eyes, however, shifted from Serena to Endymion in a deep, vibrant shade of purple. They looked like glittering jewels, somewhere between rubies and amethysts

"Trista is a truth harp," Endymion said as if the question had been poised. "She can only speak the truth." Turning to Trista, he asked, "Trista, are we safe from the giant here?"

Trista did not pause to think, but immediately, with a few tangs of the strings behind her, began to sing,

_In his chamber  
__The giant sleeps.  
__For now you are safe  
__Where the treasure keeps._

"Told you so," said Endymion, but Serena barely heard him, so entranced was she by the sound of Trista's fragile, humming voice as the last notes of her harp hung quietly in the air.

"That was beautiful!"

Trista fluttered her eyes downward, as if in acknowledgment of the praise, but did not seem at all embarrassed or even flattered.

"You can ask her anything, you know," said Endymion.

"Why aren't you giant-size, like everything else here?"

Trista answered, her strings strumming,

_I was created by dwarfs,  
__As many magic treasures are,  
__But taken as plunder  
__In the Human-Giant War._

"There was a war between the humans and the giants?" Serena asked, looking at Endymion this time, with surprise evident on her face. She couldn't help thinking that certainly the humans never would have survived!

"It was about 6000 years ago," Endymion said with a shrug. "Very catastrophic, but almost forgotten by now. My history tutor talked about it for a grand total of about twenty minutes."

Serena nodded and turned back to Trista, who was watching them with an unusual expression—something like fascination, but only because there was nothing else in the room to be fascinated by, not because she truly found them fascinating.

Thinking for a moment, Serena soon found it surprisingly difficult to come up with worthwhile questions to ask. It seemed that she should have been filled with them, but all of the questions she could think to ask, she either already knew the answer to or wasn't sure she wanted to know.

A sudden thought hit her with a jolt and she blurted, "Can you answer questions about my world too?"

The harp sang,

_A truth is a truth  
__That crosses time and space.  
__My sight sees all,  
__Anywhere and any place._

"Then is my mother okay? Is she worried about me?"

_Mothers will always worry  
__As is their given right.  
__But at least yours knows the truth  
__Of your disappearance that night._

"The truth? How on earth does my mother know the truth?"

_The Master Grimm wrote a letter  
__Explaining your role in this land  
__And with the help of Puss in Boots  
__Delivered it to your mother's hand._

Serena gawked disbelievingly at the harp, before exploding, "And she _believed _it?"

Trista did not bother to answer the question, but rather blinked calmly at the girl with a slightly tilted head—as if deeming the outburst unworthy of a response.

Shaking her head, Serena began to pace along the shelf. "That doesn't make any sense! Why would my mother just _accept_ such a radical story, from someone she didn't even know? That was given to her by a _cat?_ Are you sure you're telling the truth?"

Trista raised an eyebrow, as if offended.

"Well, look at the bright side," said Endymion—part honest, part joking, "I suppose that means you can stay for a very long time, doesn't it?"

With a snort, Serena looked down at her feet, realizing suddenly how much she missed her mother, and tried to imagine how she would feel if the roles were reversed. If she came home from school one day to find a letter saying her mother had been sucked into the world of fairy tales and had to sort them out, which could take a few weeks or more, before she was able to return. Well, short of being jealous, she probably wouldn't have believed it to begin with. She may have thought her mother had gotten sick. She may have thought her mother had abandoned her—like her father so many years before. But that theory wouldn't have lasted. Still, without evidence, it was unlikely she would have taken the letter at face value, so how would her mother have? Surely the harp must be mistaken, but if she could only speak the truth…

She sighed, her thoughts running in circles, and all boiling down to one inescapable fact. She was homesick. While she was beginning to feel as though she'd already lived a lifetime in this world, she couldn't help missing her true home.

Suddenly, Endymion was before her, his hands grasping hers. Gasping, she looked up into his intensely blue eyes—more desperate and nervous than she'd ever seen them.

"Take me with you," he whispered.

Serena blinked, uncomprehendingly. "With me where?"

"Back to your world. I can see in your eyes that you're going to go back. I know you're homesick, and though you're loved and welcome here, I understand you don't feel like you really belong here. And you have your mother to think about and I can't blame you for wanting to leave and I can't ask you to stay, so… take me with you."

Serena gaped at him, her body beginning to tremble. His hands were gripping hers—tightly, but not painfully so—and his eyes looked so frantic that she had an almost uncontrollable urge to wrap her arms around him and comfort him.

Slowly, she shook her head and managed to stutter, "But Endymion… you're a prince. You belong here!"

He rolled his eyes, and Serena was relieved to see a hint of his carefree smile returning. "How many princes does one kingdom need? They'll hardly even notice that I'm gone."

Serena knew that wasn't true, as did Endymion, but she didn't bother to point it out. Instead, she inhaled slowly and whispered, "But Endymion… you have to marry Princess Briar Rose."

A growl escaped him and he dropped her hands and spun away, pulling his fingers harshly through his hair. The sudden movement sent Serena's mind roiling and she took an uncertain step back to steady herself.

"No, I don't _have_ to marry her!" Endymion screamed, and then turned back to Serena, the intensity back in his stormy eyes. He licked his lips and when he spoke again, his voice had become infinitely more gentle. It felt like a caress on Serena's ears. "Not if you ask me not to."

"What are you…?" she trailed off, feeling like she was drowning in the turbulent emotions Endymion wasn't even attempting to conceal. Her mouth was dry. Her face was warm. Her heart was loud enough to challenge thunder.

"Tell me not to marry Briar Rose," Endymion continued, slowly, confidently, inching toward Serena once again, "and I won't. We'll run away—you and I. We'll go back to your world." He reached up a hand and twirled a lock of her hair around his fingers, not breaking the connection their gazes had forged. A delighted chill swept through Serena's nerves as he came ever closer, and she couldn't move, couldn't breathe.

"Tell me not to marry Briar Rose…" His voice was so soft and penetrating that Serena was swimming in it, drowning in it. "…and I'll run away and marry you instead."

Serena couldn't contain the nervous squeak that escaped her lips at Endymion's words. The impact of them left her feet plastered to the floor and her body immovable, even as Endymion's hands crept up to caress the skin around her neck and ears. Even as his face neared hers until she could feel his black bangs teasing her blonde ones and feel his warm, quickening breath on her lips. It wasn't until his long eyelashes fluttered over his enchanting eyes did the spell on Serena break and she pushed herself away and fell to the wood floor with a grunt.

Looking up, she saw that Endymion looked baffled for a second, then rejected for a moment longer, and then he smiled and chuckled his favorite teasing laugh and offered her a hand which she did not take.

"Endymion, we can't!"

"Yes, we can," he said in a tone so convincing that Serena was almost, well, convinced. Seeing that she was not going to be on her feet any time soon, Endymion instead crouched before her, putting them at eye level once again. "Serena, I know you feel this way too. You must!"

She closed her eyes and turned her head down, knowing that she couldn't deny it, no matter how badly she wanted to. But she just felt like there was something dreadfully important that she was forgetting.

Her eyes widened and she turned back to him again. "But you loved her once!"

Endymion's brow furrowed.

"Andrew saw it. There was a… a bond between you two! A soul mate, destined love… bond!"

"What are you talking about?"

Serena sighed. "Right after Briar Rose was born, the day that you were betrothed to her, there was a connection forged between you two. Something powerful and magical! I don't know what happened to it, but… but what if you're really supposed to marry her? What if your feelings for me are just because you're afraid to get married?"

At first, Endymion had looked as if he was going to get angry at the mention of his betrothal, but when Serena's voice wavered at her last question and her pale blue eyes began to fill up with tears, his expression softened and he reached forward, tenderly running his finger over her knuckles.

"Serena, I'm not afraid to get married, I just want to marry who I want to marry. I don't want you to think this is easy for me, or that I'm going into this carelessly. I just know that I could never feel for Briar Rose what I feel for you. You are the only girl in the world that I can imagine as my wife."

Her heart tripped over itself again at this proclamation and again Serena was forced to turn away else she melt under his scorching gaze. "But she's a _princess._ She's so much more graceful and prettier and smarter and…"

She looked up as Endymion's robust laughter penetrated her dejected thoughts.

"Don't do that, Serena! You're… you're… amazing! You make me laugh! You make me feel… well, that's it, you make me _feel._ Hope and happiness and sometimes annoyance or even anger, but you always make me feel something. And you make me… gods, you make me want you! Since that first moment we met and you tackled me, it's been painful not to touch you. I know you think I've just been teasing you all the times I was flirting but I promise it's because I had no idea how else to get close to you. I thought it was the only way… And maybe we haven't always agreed on stuff, even important stuff, but I have always been floored by your courage and that insane idealism of yours. And I don't care what my kingdom wants, I don't care what _fate_ wants. I want you! And you're crazy if you think for a second that that vain, stuck-up princess can make me happier in a hundred years of marriage than you do by just _existing_!" Then, Endymion chuckled suddenly and jumped to his feet, leaving Serena stunned and shaking as he turned back to Trista, whose look of not-quite-fascination had changed to one of slightly more intrigue.

"I'll prove it! Trista, tell me, who would I be happiest with if I married?"

Trista's gaze shifted to his and she did not hesitate, her wine-colored eyes glittering serenely as she sang,

_A love unmatched by time,  
__A love only fate knows,  
__Will in your future shine  
__Should you marry Briar Rose._

As the last notes of the harp faded away, a thick silence fell over the trio—Endymion and Serena gawking at the harp with disbelief; she stared back without emotion on her golden face.

Finally, Serena forced the crushing hopelessness in her heart to be stomped down and replaced with an ironic pride and a tinge of bitterness. So Andrew had been right after all.

"Well," she said when she knew that she could speak without her voice betraying the sudden breaking of her heart. "That answers that."

Shaking his head, Endymion refused to look at her, his gaze perpetually glued to Trista's placid eyes. "It's impossible," he whispered to no one in particular.

"In case you'd forgotten," Serena responded, allowing some of the bitterness to creep into her tone as she climbed to her feet, "she _always_ speaks the truth."

"But… but she… but I don't—"

Whatever protestations Endymion had been intent to give were interrupted by a resounding thud that made the walls vibrate around them.

Serena jumped, her eyes widening fearfully as Endymion spun toward the closed door of the treasure room.

"What was that?"

Though the question hadn't been specifically directed at her, Trista immediately answered,

_The biggest giant of them all  
__Has awaken from his slumber.  
__His footsteps coming down the hall  
__Make the sound of thunder._

Cursing, Endymion grabbed Serena's hand and began sprinting toward the door. Serena thought she heard Trista say, in a small and bored-sounding voice, "It was lovely to meet you," but before she could turn to repeat the kindness—if she even wanted to—Endymion pulled her beneath the door.

They stayed on their stomachs for a moment while Endymion poked his head into the hallway and, discovering it empty, jumped out onto the thick carpet. He turned to pull Serena out as well, not that she really needed the assistance, and soon they were running down the corridor. Serena found herself immensely grateful that Endymion seemed to know where they were going, because every hall looked exactly the same to her and she knew they'd be lost in a heartbeat if she was the one guiding them through the enormous labyrinthine castle.

They reached a fork in the passageway, with one corridor going left and one going right. Endymion turned right, but as they rounded the corner Serena sneaked a paranoid glance to the left, and the scream that left her was as controllable as it was smart. It was quickly stifled by Endymion's firm hand, but too late as the giant, perhaps forty giant strides from them, looked down with a look of surprise and eagerness.

"Hmm," he said, the bass from his voice rumbling in Serena's chest. "I thought I smell human."

Serena probably would have fainted on the spot if Endymion hadn't taken her hand again and pulled her down the hallway away from the giant, who towered nearly fifty feet high. The adrenaline coursing through her at least kept any terrified tears at bay, and Serena found herself running faster than she'd ever run in her life, her breath coming in short, frantic gasps. Endymion was a step in front of her, puffing as well, as they bolted down the hallway. Then Serena saw what Endymion had surely known was there—the rat hole. She didn't know that it had been possible to run faster, and yet the hopeful sight urged her legs to do just that—along with a steady thudding along the floor that alerted her that the giant was on the move now as well, and closing the distance quickly.

Endymion reached the hole and dodged inside, and Serena took a huge breath and dove—but she didn't hit the cold, dusty floor like she'd expected. Instead, she found herself being pulled up by the hood of her cloak, her feet dangling toward the retreating ground.

"Oho, or maybe I smell rat?" the monster said, then laughed loudly at his own joke as he lifted Serena up toward his face. She soon found herself staring into huge brown eyes, half covered by long reddish-brown curls and thick eyebrows. She wanted to scream again but the sound would not leave her. Panicking, she searched the floor, hoping for any sign of Endymion, but he was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

_Please review._


	20. Straw Into Gold

Author's confession: This chapter has very little to do with the actual plot of the story. However, it is one of my favorite chapters of any story I have ever written and I therefore couldn't bring myself to cut it. I hope you enjoy and I _promise_ the next chapter will be out shortly to make up for the lack of forward progress in this one.

Thank you to Phantasy Star, my divine editor, for catching my mistakes, big and small.

And many thanks to all reviewers who fill me with such joy and satisfaction. All critiques, praise, suggestions, and grammar/cliché notifications (Loki, I shall be on the lookout for characters _murmuring _too much .) are immensely helpful and appreciated.

And I never do tire of hearing your predictions for the story. My lips are sealed on who is correct and who is wrong, but I hope everyone will be satisfied.

Enjoy!

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 20: Straw Into Gold  
_He had the miller's daughter brought into a room filled with straw and said to her,  
"You must spin all this into gold tonight. If you succeed, you shall become my wife."  
_from Rumpelstiltskin

"You make good midnight snack," said the giant, poking Serena's abdomen with a pudgy finger.

Serena kicked and flailed, but the giant only laughed at her struggles, leaving her feeling tired and helpless.

"Hmm, wish boy not get away. Then would have appetizer!" Chortling, the giant turned back down the hallway and just as Serena's eyes began filling up with scared, desperate tears, the giant's laughter turned into a howl of pain and Serena felt herself falling.

She screamed as her cloak whipped around her and she fell nearly fifty feet—right into the arms of Endymion. He grunted at the impact, but looked otherwise unruffled. They took a moment to trade worried glances, before Serena was on her feet again and they were bounding toward the rat hole. They jumped over a discarded torch—which was still burning beside the giant's singed foot—and by the time the giant had regained his senses, they were gone.

* * *

Mina and Queen Luna, who had been chatting with each other in the west parlor, jumped to their feet when Serena and Endymion came sulking by the door.

"There you are!" Luna cried, rushing into the hallway and stopping the two before they could get any farther. "Where have you been? We've been looking for you both all day!"

Endymion and Serena exchanged weary looks, before replying in unison, "Don't want to talk about it," and returning back to their slow retreat through the castle.

Frowning, Luna put both of her hands on her hips and analyzed the appearance of her youngest son and her guest. They were both dripping wet from the rain, with slightly disheveled clothes and boots that squeaked on the tile floors. Endymion's hair was matted to his forehead and covered in what looked to be dust. Serena's hair was falling out of its twin ponytails and cluttered with a few random twigs and leaves. Luna quirked an eyebrow, before charging in between the two and putting a firm hand on Endymion's chest. Though he stood nearly a foot taller than her, it was obvious by her expression that she still saw him as her little boy who would listen to his mother or pay the consequences.

"Endymion!" she hissed, and Endymion eyed her with an irritated frown. "Do you know—erm, pardon me, Lady Serena, but—do you know how this looks? You can't just go . . . gallivanting through the woods with another pretty girl three _days_ before your wedding! Now, I trust you both and I'm sure nothing happened, but you are a prince of this kingdom and you need to be mindful of appearances and—"

With a growl, Endymion pushed Luna's hand away and stormed past her, quickly disappearing into the nearest stairwell.

After the shock of being so firmly dismissed wore off, Luna turned to see Serena, staring dejectedly down at her soaking feet. It only took a moment for Luna to realize that the expression on Serena's face could not have been due to the cold and miserable weather. Biting back another reprimand, she said quietly, "Lady Serena, where... what happened?"

Serena shook her head, inhaled a long breath, and brushed past the queen, choosing a different escape route than Endymion had on her way up to her bedroom.

Luna considered following the girl—more due to her curiosity than anything else—but was stopped by a kind hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Mina behind her.

"Why don't I go see what's wrong, and you have some wine and chocolates sent up to her room?"

* * *

Serena had taken off her dripping cloak with the fullest intention of collapsing onto her bed and crying, but then she'd taken one look at the pristine white- and gold-embroidered bedding, then glanced at her dirty, dusty, smudged, and sopping wet reflection in the nearby mirror, and simply couldn't bring herself to do it.

And then she wasn't sure what to do with herself, so she let the tears come as she stood and buried her face in her hands and felt just that much more wretched not having a warm, familiar, and _simple_ bed to fall into.

A knock sounded at the door and Serena screeched, "Go away!" and immediately regretted her rashness. Certainly if it was a maid, the rest of the servants would know by the morning what a temper their special guest had. So she was slightly relieved when it was Princess Mina who ignored her request and poked her head in anyway.

"Oh, come now. I know the look of a girl in need of girl talk when I see one." Inviting herself in, she took one look at Serena and calmly tsked at the girl. Bustling over to an armoire, she pulled out the warmest flannel nightgown she found and threw it on the bed, followed by cozy slippers and a bathrobe. Then, bustling into the adjoined bathroom, she returned with an armful of towels and threw those onto the pile as well. "Okay, get dried up and changed," she gently commanded, before putting herself in front of the hearth and beginning to stack up kindling for a fire.

It only took a minute for Serena to comply and take off her cold and sticky clothes, rub the towel over her clammy skin and hair, and slip into the sleepwear. Sitting on the plush bed and feeling a little bit silly that she'd been so willing to drown in misery when comfort had been so close by, she watched Mina stoke the embers into a steadily burning flame.

"How do you know how to do that?"

Setting the fire poker against the mantle, Mina turned to face Serena with a smile, dusting a few bits of charcoal from her hands. "Before I was a princess, I was nothing more than a farmer's daughter. I learned to do a great many things that princesses don't normally learn. And I'm quite proud of it, too. I may have maids and servants now, but I know that I could be perfectly self-sufficient if I ever needed to be."

Serena stiffened at another knock on the door, but Mina flew to it without apprehension and admitted one of Serena's personal maidservants carrying a tray full of chocolate truffles, a basket overflowing in assorted apples, berries, and exotic fruits, and a crystal decanter of red wine.

Thanking the maid, Mina took the tray and set it down on Serena's nightstand, helping herself to a chocolate and pouring two glasses, before sitting down and leaning against the headboard, allowing Serena to get her own dessert—which she quickly did.

"So…" Mina said, swirling the wine around in her glass, "You don't have to tell me where you and Endymion were all day, but you do have to tell me what's bothering you. And don't say 'nothing'—I know there's something wrong and such an answer would sorely hurt my feelings."

The chocolate in Serena's mouth turned bitter and she swallowed it painfully. She leaned back against the headboard and turned away from the princess. She, of course, didn't feel like she could tell Mina about the issue that was causing her the most pain—that Endymion was, in fact, destined to wed and love Princess Briar Rose—and besides, she felt foolish for being so hurt by it. She should have known from the beginning that the prince was meant for his betrothed. That's how fairy tales went. She shouldn't have dared to hope, no matter how sweet he was toward her, or how cold he was toward Briar Rose. Serena forced herself to shake off the hope that came even with those thoughts.

Finally, she turned her blue eyes back toward Mina and forced a sad smile. "I guess I…" Her voice cracked and she chuckled a little at her own immaturity, but Mina put an encouraging arm around her shoulders and she continued, "I guess I'm just a little homesick."

Sighing, Mina nodded as Serena blinked back tears and sniffles, swaying gently and caressing the girl's long hair.

"Tell me all about it."

And so she did, even as tears began to fall. Serena told Mina about her mother who was all alone in their house and, even though Trista the harp claimed she'd been told about the land of Grimm, she must still be desperately worried. And she told Mina about her friends at school and her neighborhood and the awful school cafeteria and Melvin and her favorite teachers and "even stupid Darien Shields."

The princess said nothing until Serena's crying slowly ebbed, then she reached for a stack of tissues and Serena's wine. "Don't get it all salty," she commanded half-teasingly as she held the glass to Serena's lips.

With a slow sigh, Serena drank and felt the wine warm her from the inside. After sniffling into the tissue, she devoured two more pieces of chocolate, wiped her eyes, and suddenly found herself feeling worlds better. She smiled up at Mina and hardly had to force it at all. "Thanks."

"Think nothing of it. Just my maternal instincts shining through," Mina said with a wink. "Now, why don't you lie down and try to get some beauty sleep?"

_Sleeping Beauty…_

Serena clenched her teeth and was glad that Mina didn't notice her awkward cringe. Nodding, she crawled beneath the covers as Mina went around the room blowing out candles.

"Lady Serena, did you mother tell you stories before bedtime?"

"All the time when I was little. Why?"

Returning to Serena's side, Mina sat down on the bed. "Would it make you feel better if I told you one? I've gotten pretty good at them since Cytherea was born."

A tiny smile curled Serena's lips. "I would love that, Mina."

"Great! Then get comfortable and close your eyes."

Serena did as she was told, relishing the feeling of the feather pillow blooming up around her head and the weight of the bedspread surrounding her in a warm and safe cocoon. When she found that spot that her body fit into perfectly, she closed her eyes, wiggled her toes, and waited.

Soon, Mina began. "Once upon a time, there lived a farmer and his wife…"

* * *

And they had three daughters who were all very beautiful. However, the eldest was vain and stingy and the middle child was cruel and rude. Only the youngest daughter grew up to be kind and compassionate. Because of this, her sisters often took advantage of her generosity and forced her to take on their chores, complaining of illnesses and soreness they did not really have. And so, as the two elder sisters grew more and more lazy, the youngest grew strong and toughened and knowledgeable in the ways of the world. In this way, the two elder sisters were able to devote hours and whole days to pampering themselves—bathing in salt and sour milk, plastering their faces with egg whites and oats, and leaving lemon in their hair on sunny afternoons—while the youngest daughter became darkened by the sun and woke up to calluses on her fingers and chipped and broken nails and dirt that would not come off her face no matter how hard she scrubbed.

One day, the farmer's wife became very ill and she called her three daughters to her bedside. To the eldest, she gave a ring and necklace made of gold. To the middle girl, she gave a ring and necklace made of silver. And to the youngest, she gave a ring and necklace made of copper. The next day she passed away. And though the youngest had received the least valuable of the jewelry, she cherished it with all her heart, while her sisters scoffed at the gifts because they were not also encrusted with jewels.

There came a day when the two elder sisters decided to go into town to shop and they invited the youngest sister to join them—for the purpose of carrying their bags and boxes. While in town, the three stopped at an eatery, one of the nicest in town. Though the sisters couldn't really afford to eat at such a nice place, the elder sisters justified it by claiming that they would find a rich husband there, and surely a rich husband would pay for any debt they had acquired.

The youngest daughter happily satisfied herself with bread and water while her sisters gorged on meat pies and foreign ale, and while her sisters chatted about fashion and parties, the youngest sister found her eyes wandering among the crowd. She soon spotted a handsome man chatting and drinking with friendly company. He had hair almost as long as she had, that shone like a waterfall of silver despite his youthful appearance. His jaw was well-defined and his build was tall with wide shoulders. His eyes were pale blue like a clear sky in winter. Even from across the room, his laughter resounded in the girl's chest and made her feel warm and content.

It was not long before her sisters noticed the girl's distraction and it was easy to discover what had so entranced her. Eager for a chance to embarrass their youngest sister—and flirt with the handsome gentleman and his comrades—the sisters approached the group, dragging their horrified sister behind them.

When the men saw the girls coming, they were immediately taken by the beauty of the two eldest girls, for they each had thick golden hair pinned up with rhinestones and ribbons, and while their faces had become pudgy, their skin was pale and flawless and they smelled like bottled wildflowers.

The youngest sister went unnoticed, looking more like a servant to the girls than a sister, with her long blonde hair dulled and full of tangles and her lean body covered in soot from the fireplace and bruises from her chores. She felt ashamed to be seen with her beautiful sisters as they flirted coquettishly with the companions, and for the first time in her life, she felt jealousy rise up in her to see the silver-haired man smiling at the damsels.

It was not long before the men were joking about making the girls their wives.

"But which one would you take?" one of the men asked with a boisterous laugh.

"Which one is a better cook?" another teasingly answered.

The girls batted their eyelashes and drew their shoulders back to enhance their breasts, and the eldest said, "I am a much better cook than she!"

"But which is a better seamstress?"

The middle daughter giggled. "Why, I am a much better seamstress than she!"

"But which can spin straw into gold?" It was the silver-haired man that said this and sent all of his friends roiling with laughter at the suggestion.

The two girls said nothing, confounded, before giggling along.

"I can!"

The laughter ceased abruptly and all eyes turned to the farmer's youngest daughter, who felt instantly silly and stupid for making such a false claim. But the beautiful eyes of the silver-haired stranger prompted her to hold her head as proudly as she could and finish, "I can spin straw into gold, much better than either of my sisters."

Most of the men chuckled at the girl's show of character and their own surprise at her relation to the pretty girls. But the silver-haired man did not laugh, but rather tilted his head to the side and looked past the dirt and ash and bruises and tangled hair and finally said, "If this is true, then I shall make you my wife."

Again, a hush fell, and the youngest daughter was sure her heart would beat right out of her chest. She gulped, feeling the angry and jealous eyes of her sisters burning into her as a blush crept up her cheeks. She was about to confess that she had said it only to gain their attention, when the man continued, "And as I am a prince of this kingdom, you shall become a princess."

The farmer's daughter found that she could not protest, and so the prince took her to his palace, leaving her sisters behind. There, he led her to a small room, not much larger than a closet, with a spinning wheel surrounded by fresh-smelling straw.

"All right," said the prince, his pretty blue eyes full of mischief, "If you can spin all this straw into gold by morning, I shall make you my wife."

The girl was about to confess her falsehood, but seeing the gaiety in his eyes took the words out of her mouth. "Don't you think I can?" she asked, upset that the prince doubted her claim. For reasons she couldn't comprehend, she was insulted that he wouldn't trust her.

"No," the prince said with a friendly laugh, "I don't think you can."

The girl drew her brow down.

"In fact, I think you made it up to get my attention." He quirked a thin silver eyebrow at her and a blush bloomed on her cheeks.

"And why would I want to get the attention of an arrogant prince like you?" she spat.

"Arrogant?" the prince asked, taken aback by her harsh words, but the girl ignored the hurt expression and stomped into the straw-filled room.

"I will spin this straw into gold! Just you wait and see if I don't!"

The prince couldn't help another grin tilting his lips at the girl's spirit. Shrugging, he mumbled, "Suit yourself," and went to leave, but the girl called him back.

"What…what will you do if I can't?" she asked slowly, almost fearfully. "You know, in case I can't get it all done in time."

His eyes softening, the prince tilted his head up as if thinking, then finally answered, "Why, what any arrogant prince would do: have you beheaded, of course." With a wink that left the girl shaking, he turned and left her alone in the room.

Soon, the girl collapsed onto a pile of straw and began to weep, wondering what had come over her to defy the prince so hot-headedly. She wondered if the prince would really have her beheaded, and while she didn't want to believe that he would be so cruel, she had also never met a prince before and didn't know how they normally reacted to such lies as hers.

After hours of crying and feeling sorry for herself, the girl finally stood and brushed off her straw- and dirt-covered rags, and thought, "How silly I've been! We aren't too far in the castle, and he didn't lock me in here. I'll just leave and he'll never know and he'll get a very big laugh out of it with his friends and I'll get a very big lashing for my behavior, but at least I'll still have my head."

With one last sigh—for the thought of never seeing the handsome prince again made her almost as sad as the thought of dying the next day—she started toward the hallway. However, she'd only gotten a few steps when she heard a little voice behind her.

"Pretty damsel, pretty damsel, do not despair."

She turned to see a short man with pointed ears and bells on his brightly colored clothing standing in the middle of the straw.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"My name I cannot give, pretty damsel, but offer you my help I will. This straw I will spin into gold for only a small price."

"You can spin straw into gold?"

"I can, I can."

The girl pursed her lips and thought a moment about the offer, but then shook her head. "I have nothing to pay you with."

"You do, you do. This straw I will spin into gold for only the ring on your finger."

Reflexively, the girl clutched the copper ring to her chest and shook her head. "Absolutely not!" she said, before swiveling on her feet and preparing to march away.

"Do you not want to be the prince's bride?"

The girl's feet stilled beneath her. So focused had she been on what would happen if she didn't spin the straw into gold, she had forgotten about the other half of the bargain. She looked down at the ring, her heart breaking at the mere thought of parting with it, but then she imagined herself being wed to the prince, and her decision was made. She quickly slipped the ring off her finger and handed it to the little man, who sat down at the spinning wheel without hesitation and grabbed up a clump of straw. With skill and patience, the man began turning the wheel and threading the straw through, piece by piece, and the girl was amazed to see the straw emerge from the wheel as a string of pure gold.

By the time morning came, all of the straw had been turned into yellow gold, and the man disappeared in a puff of smoke even before the girl could thank him. Hardly a breath of time later, the prince entered the room with a smirk on his handsome face—which immediately faded to one of astonishment to see the piles of gold at his feet. That look made the girl forget the loss of her mother's ring.

"Told you so," the girl said, practically glowing as the prince looked on her with awe.

"But… you couldn't possibly have done this yourself!" he stuttered.

"Oh? And just why not?"

Laughing, the prince held his hands up defensively at her temper. "It's just… I didn't think… How did you do this?"

"Well…that's a secret!"

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really."

"Well, in that case, you certainly wouldn't argue if I asked you to spin some more?"

With that, he led her to another, larger room, filled with even more straw. The girl's jaw dropped.

"That is, of course, if you really spun all that straw before, like you said."

"I did spin that, and I can spin this too," she said.

"Good. Then if you spin all of this straw into gold by tomorrow morning, I will make you my wife."

"But… but you said I only had to spin the straw in that first room to be made your wife!" the girl argued, then silently chastised herself for the desperation in her voice.

"Yes, but I have reason to believe that you didn't really spin that straw into gold, and I don't want to marry a girl unless she really can do what she says."

After the prince left, the girl angrily sat down on a stack of hay and waited, and waited, and waited. Her annoyance at the prince's haughtiness had just faded into a new bout of misery when she heard a little voice.

"Pretty damsel, pretty damsel, do not despair. This straw will I spin into gold for only a small price."

Looking up, she saw the same little man with pointed ears standing before her. On one thumb he wore her mother's copper ring and it looked dull beside his extravagant clothes.

"A small price? And what will it be this time?" the girl asked, dreading the answer.

"This straw I will spin into gold for only the necklace on your neck."

The girl sighed and fingered the necklace, biting back her tears. Because even before the man had made the request, she knew that she would give him the necklace if he asked for it. Slowly, she reached beneath her hair and undid the clasp. When she held it out, the little man's greedy fingers snatched it away. Then he sat down and began to feed the straw through the wheel; his fingers worked so fast that the girl hardly saw them move, and yet he never made a single mistake. At one point the girl fell asleep, having become bored and weary, and when she woke up it was morning, all the straw had been turned into gold, and the little man was gone.

She sat up and stretched just as the prince came into the room. Again, he looked surprised, though not nearly as much as he had the day before. Letting out a loud laugh, he turned to the farmer's daughter. She met his grin with a smug face and folded her arms, daring him to challenge her abilities again.

"Very impressive," the prince drawled, drawing his fingers down over his beardless chin.

"Any more complaints?" the girl asked.

"No… no complaints. Although, I do have some questions."

"I won't tell you how I do it!" the girl instantly spouted. "And I won't show you, either."

Laughing, the prince shook his head. "Oh, no, no, I wouldn't dare intrude upon your secret. I'm just wondering… where is the ring you were wearing two days ago?"

The girl gasped, clutching her hands to hide the offensively naked fingers. "Well, I… I must have dropped it in the first room. It probably slid off while I was spinning."

"Ah… and what about…" He took a step closer to the girl and gently tapped her collarbone. "…your necklace? Did that also slip off while you were spinning?"

The girl felt an angry blush creep up her neck. "The clasp was faulty! It was always falling off. I'm sure it's probably buried somewhere amongst all this gold that I spun for you!"

"I see. Well then, one more question, if you don't mind. If you've always had this ability of spinning straw into gold, why do you dress in rags?"

Pursing her lips, the farmer's daughter looked down at her clothes, looking even more sodden now than they had when the prince had first laid eyes on her. She found that she had no answer to give.

"I'll make you a deal," the prince whispered, leaning in so close to the girl that she felt his long silver hair brushing against her shoulder. "There is one more room of straw, even larger than this one. If, in the morning, all of that straw has been likewise spun into gold, I will make you my wife, regardless of whether or not you did the spinning yourself."

"I thought you wanted a wife who can really do what she says," the girl responded bitterly, making the prince chuckle a little at his own words.

"Yes… but even more, I want a wife who isn't afraid to say what she wants."

And so he took her to a third room, this one double the size of the last and packed to the gills with straw. But before the prince could leave the girl to her work, she stopped him and asked, "Why do you have rooms full of straw in the first place? You obviously didn't believe you would ever find a girl who could spin it into gold, and yet you seemed determined to find her."

The prince grinned and took a long while thinking about his answer. Finally, he raised his pale blue eyes to the girl and said, "Many years ago I met a fairy godmother and she told me that I would one day meet a girl who could spin straw into gold, and that I was to make this girl my wife and love her until the day I die, and only with her could I find happiness and peace."

After the prince left, the girl sat down on the straw and thought about what he said and wondered if the little man would show up. It was well past midnight and she was beginning to feel tears welling up again, when she heard the same voice.

"Pretty damsel, pretty damsel, do not despair. This straw will I spin into gold for only a small price."

Sadly, she shook her head at the little man and held out her empty hands. "Thank you for helping me so far, but I have nothing more to give you."

A wicked grin grew on the little man's lips and he appeared to be thinking. "I see, I see. But I think one gift you can promise me now and give to me later."

The girl gasped and jumped to her feet, a sudden thought entering her head. "Yes, you're right! If I marry the prince I'll become a princess, then I can give you all the jewelry you want, even better than the little copper pieces you wear now." She gestured to the necklace that hung around the man's neck, but her sudden excitement dulled when the man shook his head.

"No, pretty damsel, I have another request. Much more precious than the jewels of a princess."

"But what then?"

The little man's eyes grew dark. "This straw I will spin into gold for only your firstborn child."

The farmer's daughter gasped and reeled back, shaking her head. "No! Absolutely not!"

"So be it," the man said, spinning on a heel. "Then marry the prince you will not."

Her heart thudding painfully against her chest, the girl sought anything else of value she would be able to offer the man, but could think of nothing. Finally, she reasoned that she would surely not have a child for a long while still, and the little man would have forgotten all about her promise by the time she gave birth. And so, reluctantly, she agreed to the terms, refusing to cry as she did so.

The man sat down at the spinning wheel and set to work, his smile stretching from one pointed ear to the other.

While he worked, the girl sat down in a corner and tried to ignore the sick feeling in her stomach. She desperately hoped that she was right and that the man would forget about her promise. She tried to console herself by thinking about her marriage to the handsome prince. But no matter how she justified the bargain, she couldn't shake the horrid feeling it set in her.

And then, as morning drew nearer, another set of worries popped into the girl's mind, almost equally worrisome and even more pressing than her deal with the little man, and these concerning the story that the prince had told her about the fairy godmother. It occurred to her that the fairy godmother had promised the prince peace and happiness with a girl who could spin straw into gold, but, no matter how hard the girl tried to make believe she could do so, there was no denying the fact that she couldn't. A sick feeling came to her again and she wondered if, by marrying the prince under this falsehood, she would be condemning him to a life of misery because he had not found his true love.

These thoughts continued to plague the girl even as the little man finished the last straw and disappeared with a cackle. A steady stream of light was now pouring through a small window and, not a moment later, footsteps were heard outside the room.

When the prince entered the room and scanned the piles of gold with his eyes, his face broke into a huge grin and, without speaking a word, he held out his arms toward the girl.

But she did not run to his embrace like she wanted to. Instead, she stifled a sob and looked away.

Dropping his arms, the prince slowly neared her. "Why are you crying? You've completed the final task. Surely, after all this, you will become my wife?"

Shaking her head, the girl slowly looked up at the prince with glazed eyes. "I didn't spin it," she admitted shakily. "I'm sorry for deceiving you, but I can't spin straw into gold. A little man did it for me. I'm not… I'm not the girl that the fairy godmother told you about. I'm sorry to have lied to you."

She looked down and didn't attempt to stop the tears as they crawled down her cheeks. But it wasn't long before she felt the prince's large hands on her face, brushing the tears away and forcing her to look up at him.

"Yes, you are," he breathed.

"No, I—"

"I know that you didn't spin this straw into gold. I've known it all along. You're a very bad liar." The girl felt her anger flare, but the prince's gentle smile discarded it just as quickly and he continued, "I apologize for deceiving you, as well. The fairy godmother did not tell me that I would meet a girl who could spin straw into gold, only that I should offer the challenge to a girl, and only the one who completed it determinedly, and in the end confessed her shortcomings, was the one that I should marry and love until the day I die."

The girl's jaw fell open in surprise and she found that, for the first time since she'd met the prince, she truly had nothing to say.

"Now then," he said, taking her silence as a good sign, "will you be my wife?"

And the prince and the farmer's daughter were married one week later, and a little less than a year after that, the princess gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. However, the day of the baby's blessing ceremony, the little man did return in order to claim the payment that the farmer's daughter had offered him. The girl refused to give the man her daughter, though, and begged for a way to alter the promise she'd given. The man said that he would return at sunset three evenings in a row, and if she had not guessed his name by that third evening, she would be forced to relinquish the baby girl. The first and second evenings came and went and the princess guessed every name she could think of, but none belonged to the little man. But then, on the third day, a stranger showed up at the palace steps who knew the evil man's name, and by shouting the despised word, "Rumpelstiltskin," the new stranger sent the little man back to his sinister hovel, never to bother any of the kingdom's inhabitants or the royal family again.

* * *

Mina sighed, reaching forward to brush some of Serena's bangs out of her eyes. "And that is how we met you, our Chosen One."

But Serena had fallen fast asleep.

* * *

_Please review._

**On that note:** does anyone have any idea what the record for SM reviews is at fanfiction dot net? I know there are some past 1000 but I'm curious to know if this story could end up breaking a record, haha. Thanks for being so supportive everyone!


	21. A Corset in the Mirror

**BIG NEWS!**

I found out yesterday evening that I am going to be _published!_ A short story/novelette of mine has been accepted for a gothic romance anthology published by CatScratch Books. I will definitely post an announcement once the book is available, which should be some time in 2008.

I owe big thanks to Shadowravyn and Jojodacrow for their wonderful editing on the winning story, titled "The Phantom of Linkshire Manor."

dies of excitement

Thanks to all reviewers and to everyone who helped me research for SM's most reviewed story. (So far it appears that MG's "Games of Seduction" is winning with a whopping 1808 reviews! That's a lot to strive for but I shall try my best.)

And thanks to Phantasy Star, my wonderful editor for _this_ story.

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 21: A Corset in the Mirror  
_Snow White stood in front of the old woman and let herself be laced  
with the new staylace. However, the old woman laced her so quickly and  
so tightly that Snow White lost her breath and fell down as if dead.  
_from Snow White

Serena woke up in a cold sweat.

She'd dreamt of Trista—the beautiful singing harp with hollow eyes and serenely haunting voice who could only speak the truth. In the dream, Trista had sung out a proclamation from her perch in the Giant's castle in the sky, and it rang throughout all of Aysel.

_Let it be known that the silly foreign girl believed herself loved by a prince! Let it be known the foreign girl ever deemed herself worthy! Let it be known! Let it be known!_

From the throne room, surrounded by all of the royal family and the guardians and Princess Briar Rose who was dressed in fine brocaded silk, Serena listened to the heralding with a painful sense of humility. The royal family began to laugh and she looked down to find herself clothed in rags similar to those Lita had been wearing when they'd met. But Lita, too, was dressed in a beautiful gown now, and she, too, was laughing. Spinning around, Serena tried to find solace in Endymion's tender blue eyes—surely he, of all people, would understand? He had told her he loved her, after all. Had he made it all up? Had it all been a lie?

She turned and turned but could not find Endymion for a long time in the growing crowd full of laughter. The throne room was teeming with servants and fairies, townspeople and witches. Even the reporters that had followed Rumpelstiltskin through the wheat fields now surrounded her, scribbling on their notepads and yelling interrogations at the tops of their voices.

"Whatever made you think the youngest prince would love you? Did the prince deceive you? Are you emotionally unbalanced? Did you seduce the prince? Did you really befriend his fiancé, the beautiful Princess Briar Rose, in an effort to lure her away from him?"

Shrinking away from the flashing camera bulbs, Serena desperately looked for a way to escape their onslaught of questions. While attempting to run from the mob, she felt the heel of the glass slipper she was wearing shatter beneath her and she stumbled to her hands and knees. Shaking, she reached forward blindly to find something to grab onto, to help find purchase, and her hand met with thick silk. Gasping, she looked up to find that she was clutching the skirt of Briar Rose, asleep on the tile marble floor.

"Get away from her!" Andrew yelled in Serena's ear and he and Seiya each grabbed her by the arms and dragged her away. A moment later, Endymion emerged from the crowd and she gasped hopefully. Surely he would set everything straight! He had been there, with her and the harp. He had _said _all those things!

But Endymion did not even look at her, but rather kneeled beside the sleeping princess with his eyes, full of compassion and admiration, concentrated on her porcelain face. Slowly, he leaned forward, closing his blue eyes as his lips approached those of his betrothed.

When she awoke, sweat dampening her sheets, Serena took a moment to calm her breathing and swipe away the wetness on her cheeks. It was still dark out and she lit a candle beside her bed and, noticing the remnants of the previous night's snack, she gobbled up four truffles and drank half a glass of red wine—cringing at its stagnant taste from sitting so long in the open air, but finishing it off anyway. Sliding from the bed, she found her bathrobe and slippers and sneaked quietly into the hallway.

The castle seemed deserted and gloomy as she plodded her way down the marble corridor. A few candle sconces flickered and crackled against the walls, sending shadows dancing and swaying beneath Serena's feet. She hugged her arms to her body and forced herself into a near jog, anxious to be out of the cold and dreary halls. Her slippered feet padded softly on the stone and she kept starting and whisking around at strange sounds, only to realize that it was her own breathing that had frightened her. Finally, clenching her teeth, she took off in a dead run, heedless that anyone might see her. After all, who would see her running through the unmanned castle in the dead of night?

And so her logic held until she turned a corner and crashed into an unsuspecting body. They both toppled backward, she squealing and landing on her rump and her victim collapsing against a near wall. Breathing hard, Serena pulled her hair from her face and looked up. She was met with a glare so full of contempt that it frightened her more than the initial collision.

"You!" she gasped, scooting away.

The old man regained his balance with the aid of a walking stick and leveled his furious stare on Serena. She remembered him clearly from her first day in Aysel, from the first moments she'd arrived there. He was the same cranky old man from the cottage in the wheat fields: the Lord Grimm. And she somehow doubted he had stopped scowling for an instant since she'd seen him last. "What are you doing in this hallway?" he snarled.

Furious at his temper, Serena shot to her feet, straightened her disheveled robe, and fisted her hands on her hips. "I happen to be a guest here, for your information. And I could very well ask the same thing about _you,_ you know."

The man tossed his shoulders back and squinted his dark eyes at her. "This whole world belongs to me. I can go where I please."

She was about to retort when a strangled cry was heard not far down the hallway. Glancing over the man's shoulder, Serena worriedly looked toward the sound, muttering, "What was that?"

Ignoring her question, the Lord Grimm grabbed Serena harshly by the wrist and attempted to drag her down the other corridor. "It is not safe here," he hissed. "You must leave!"

But while his grip was strong, Serena and her will were stronger. Growling, she pried the man's fingers off of her and ran toward the sound—suddenly sure which door it had come from: the door to Snow White's room.

"Raye?" she called, pounding on the door. But her instincts could not wait and in a moment she'd barged in, grateful that the door was unlocked. Storming into the room, she called again, "Raye?"

Instantly her eyes fell upon Raye's crumpled form on the floor, her black hair spread out on the carpet, her pale arms reaching toward the vanity as if trying to grasp at something invisible on the floor.

Screaming, Serena ran to the princess and fell to her knees, shaking the girl and repeating her name. She barely noticed when the Lord Grimm brushed past her, tearing a blanket from the bed and tossing it over the vanity's black mirror.

"Raye, are you all right? Raye, wake up!" Serena cried, searching her pale throat for a pulse and finding it only faintly. Cursing, Serena muttered, "She isn't breathing. Quick, call for help!" It was then that she noticed the corset Raye was wearing—a lovely satin and taffeta bodice in the palest of pinks, with black lace displaying the boning that ran down her ribcage and black velvet ribbon lacing it up her back.

Her eyes widening, Serena reached for the ribbon, knowing in an instant that it was responsible for Raye's lack of breath—the corset was suffocating her. Her fingers gripped at the ribbon and she pulled and yanked at the knots, but it seemed that everything she did only forced the bodice tighter. Raye's pale face was beginning to take on a bluish tint and Serena prayed that it was only because of the moonlight through the window as she struggled to untie the girl. With fearful tears steaming down her cheeks and a cry of anguish, Serena bent over Raye's back and desperately tore at the ribbon with her teeth, gnawing and clawing at it until, finally, she felt one of the ribbons snap. Gasping for the air she hadn't realized she'd been holding, she took hold of each side of the corset where the ribbon had broken and began pulling them apart, millimeter by millimeter, working the ribbon through the grommets until finally she was able to pull the last of the ribbon through and the corset burst open from the released pressure, showing deep creases in Raye's back where the boning had been pressing into the skin.

"Raye! Raye, breathe!" Serena sobbed, turning Raye onto her back.

At her command, Raye's ruby red lips parted and she sucked in a great rush of air. She coughed and a few drops of thick blood appeared on her lips, then she lay panting with her eyes closed and her hair tangled around her neck and shoulders.

Ignoring the tears that wouldn't stop, Serena used the sleeve of her bathrobe to wipe away the blood, then pulled Raye into a gentle hug, crying into her neck.

"What's going on here?"

Serena gasped at the sudden intrusion and raised her eyes to see a blonde-haired stranger lurking in the doorway.

"Who are you?"

Ignoring her question, the man lowered his eyes to Raye, and instantly rushed forward. "What happened?" he asked, kneeling on her other side and gingerly checking for a pulse.

"I'm not sure. She was attacked, with the corset. Someone tried to suffocate her. Through the mirror, I think."

The man's steely blue eyes turned their scrutiny from Raye to Serena. "The mirror?"

Gulping, Serena slowly nodded. With a furrowed brow, the man glanced over her shoulder at the vanity, his eyes sweeping over the blanket-draped mirror and briefly acknowledging the old man who stood glowering against a wall, before looking down at Raye again.

"I see," he murmured unhappily and scooped one arm beneath Raye's neck, checking the skin around her throat and down her sternum—for what, Serena wasn't sure, but she did notice the unlaced corset beginning to slide away from Raye's chest. Instinctively, she whipped off her robe and threw it over Raye, tucking it around her shoulders. For as much as she could tell, the man didn't even notice.

Finished with his administrations, the man set Raye's head back down on the floor and cupped her face in his hands, gently stroking his thumbs along her cheeks. "Lady Raye, you're going to be all right now. Open your eyes."

And, to Serena's surprise, she listened. Her long eyelashes began to flutter and her lips pursed together for a moment, before she licked them and released a pained sigh and opened her violet eyes. An overwhelming sense of relief flooded through Serena at seeing Raye's gaze lively and full of wonder—but the emotion was quickly replaced with the odd sensation of being an outsider looking in. Raye looked up into the man's turbulent eyes and slowly inhaled through parted lips. She blinked slowly, dreamily, and let her eyes drift over the man's defined cheekbones and square jaw and short, well-kept blonde hair.

Sitting back on her heels, Serena felt her brow drawing down of its own accord. She noted how the man still kneeled with his face scarce inches above the princess's and his fingers lightly stroking her temples. It was glaringly obvious. They looked picture perfect. In fact, they looked just like the watercolor illustration of the prince after he has kissed Snow White back to life that marked the end of their tale in Serena's book of Grimm's tales.

But for some reason, the sight made her queasy. Because if this stranger was Raye's prince, then what about—

"Raye!"

Startled, Serena jumped and looked up to see Jadeite rushing into the room.

Tearing her eyes away from the stranger, Raye looked up at the prince and quietly mumbled his name, sounding as though she'd just awoken from a lovely dream.

"Raye, what happened?" Jadeite asked, kneeling beside Serena and reaching for Raye's hand. In response to his arrival, the stranger stood up and hooked his thumbs through his belt loops, scanning the room even as the three guardians appeared together at the door.

Raye sat up, holding the bathrobe to her chest and welcoming the support that Jadeite's hand offered. "My stepmother was here."

"Here?"

"Well… there," she said, pointing at the hidden mirror.

"What were you doing with an unmasked mirror in your room like that?" Hota asked crossly, flying to the vanity and checking that the blanket there was firmly in place.

Raye lowered her eyes and shook her head. "It was veiled when I went to bed last night. I'm sure of it."

A hush drifted over the room and the prince gently urged Raye to stand, supporting her around the shoulders, though she seemed too distracted to notice his presence.

"Thank goodness you're all right," said Andrew.

"Thanks to Serena," Raye said, her eyes flickering to her friend, "and…" She tilted her head and peered up at the blonde stranger through her messy black bangs.

Clearing his throat, the man puffed out his chest and acknowledged, "Alex."

"_Alex?_" Serena exploded, before clasping a hand over her mouth as Alex turned to her with a raised eyebrow. Clearing her throat as a blush crept up her neck, Serena stuttered, "I mean… it's just… you don't mean to say that you're Alex of… Princess Briar Rose's guard, do you?"

"The same, mi'lady. I was unaware that my name had entered into the social circle of Aysel."

Serena glanced at Andrew and, grateful that he seemed just as surprised as she, turned back with a weak smile. "Oh, the princess just… was telling me about her excellent… guards… earlier. The other day. At the ball."

Nodding curtly, Alex turned his focus to Raye, who had not taken her eyes from him as he spoke. "How are you feeling, mi'lady?"

"Better. Thank you," she whispered, taking her hand out of Jadeite's grasp to tighten her grip on the bathrobe for modesty.

"It was lucky you found her in time," Andrew noted, his eyes watching Alex with a hint of skepticism. "How did you know she was in trouble?"

Alex coolly turned his gaze on Serena. "I was patrolling the hall a few corridors away and heard this lady crying."

"Serena, how did you know?" asked Hota.

"I heard her collapse."

"All the way from your room?"

"Oh, no, I was… I'd been in the hallway…" she gestured toward the door, then gasped, and spun around. "And he was there too!" She pointed at the Lord Grimm, who had been securely hidden amongst the shadows in the corner, but now strode out into the moonlight. Everyone in the room gasped, except Seiya who only widened his eyes in mute surprise, and Serena who soon found herself looking around at peculiarly stunned faces.

"Lord Grimm!" Andrew breathed in astonishment, before dipping into a low bow. His show of respect was mimicked by the others, Raye falling into an awkward curtsy as her undressed state made her blush for the first time.

Serena couldn't help feeling a bit annoyed.

"What an honor to see you, Lord Grimm," said Hota. "What brings you to the castle?"

His cool black eyes swept from the fairy to Serena, before alighting on Raye. "I had suspicions that trouble would be about."

Raye's eyes widened, glossy with unshed tears, and she quietly whispered, "Thank you for coming to my rescue, Lord Grimm."

Furrowing her brow, Serena quickly shook her head, before placing defiant fists on her hips. "Hey, he wasn't coming _here._ He was walking the other way! He was trying to get _me_ to go the other way!"

There was only a moment of silence, before Andrew chuckled. "Obviously the Lord Grimm had a plan in mind, and now everything has worked out fine. Perhaps we should all go and let Lady Snow White have some rest, before we wake up the rest of the castle?"

Raye folded her arms snugly over the robe and let her eyes drift around the room, finally landing on Alex, who seemed very intent not to return the gaze. With a near-inaudible sigh, she let her gaze fall. "Thank you again, everyone. I'm sure I'll be fine now."

"I will add this hallway to my standard patrol route," Alex said, his blue eyes turning toward the open doorway.

"And I'll have extra guards put on duty right away," added Jadeite.

Soon, the crowd had shuffled into the hallway, Raye thanking them all again before dazedly shutting the door. The Lord Grimm was the first to leave—or more to flee, Serena suspiciously noted as he scurried away into a dark hallway without a backward glance—and Alex also, without an adieu, swept away toward Briar Rose's room, leaving Serena alone with Jadeite and the three guardians.

They were peculiarly silent as they began meandering back toward their own quarters, before Jadeite murmured, "I thought she would be safe from her stepmother here. I thought that here she would be protected. With the guards, the dwarfs… with me just down the hallway…"

"There was nothing you could have done," Serena awkwardly reassured him. "Queen Beryl must have somehow discovered where she was, and then… found the right mirror."

"Of all the mirrors in the castle," Seiya mused.

"Seiya has a point. How could the queen have known which mirror to look through? And why wasn't it covered up?" asked Hota, to which no one had an answer.

"I believe Raye when she says that it had been covered before she fell asleep," said Serena. "But then… how?"

"And how did the queen know that Snow White was here in the first place?" added Andrew. "I understand that news travels fast, but it's only been a couple of days! And besides, there weren't any representatives from Cashlin at the wedding."

"Perhaps…"

Serena turned to face Jadeite, who had hesitated with a worried face.

"What is it?" she asked.

Sighing, Jadeite lowered his eyes. "I don't like to think such a thing is possible in my own home, but perhaps there is a traitor in our midst. An accomplice to Queen Beryl, and an enemy to Raye."

The procession stopped in the hallway as Jadeite's words sunk in, and they could all see how plausible such an option was.

"But who?" Hota was the first to ask the question on all of their minds.

Serena gasped and clenched her fists. "Lord Grimm!"

"Lady Serena!" Andrew instantly reprimanded, to a chorus of gasps.

"What?" she asked in irritation. "Think about it! He was sneaking around her hallway when it happened, he tried to get me to go the other way when I heard her collapse, and he ran away as soon he could! He has guilt written all over him!"

"Enough!" yelled Hota, fluttering before Serena with hands on her hips. "I will not tolerate such blasphemy in my presence!"

Blinking in disbelief, Serena turned toward Andrew, who had always been a beacon of support, to find him staring at the ground with pursed lips, shaking his head. She turned back to the fairy.

"Look, I know everyone here puts him up on some sort of pedestal, but you have to understand that he is from _my_ world, and people from _my _world are very prone to corruption, and—"

"Lady Serena," Jadeite sternly interrupted, before taking a long, calming breath and focusing his suddenly furious blue eyes on her. "I will forgive you your ignorance, but these accusations must stop. Lord Grimm is a savior and a beacon to me and my people. He would never wish harm to any of us. His infinite kindness and wisdom have often been the glue holding our world together. If you speak badly of him again, I will be forced to determine a just punishment."

Serena found that she couldn't lift her slacken jaw, and a cold shiver crept up her spine from the livid look Jadeite had focused upon her. Finally, she was forced to look away. She gulped and wet her lips, but said nothing more, distrustful of her own voice.

"Besides," Seiya interjected into the uncomfortable silence, his voice full of the slow drawl he always had, "Lord Grimm was not the only one 'sneaking' around her hallway when the attack occurred."

Her eyes widening, Serena turned to the black-haired guardian.

"Wait… you don't think that _I_ would—"

"No one is accusing you of anything," Andrew said, though his quiet voice didn't sound terribly comforting. "But Seiya does have a point. If we were to begin throwing accusations around…" His green eyes met hers, and Serena soon found angry blood pulsing against her temples. She dug her nails into her palms to keep from spilling frustrated tears. "After all, Lady Serena, you _were_ the first to find her."

"And being a stranger from another land," mused Hota. "You yourself said that people from your world are prone to corruption."

"Hey, you're the ones who keep calling me the Chosen One! And do you really think I've been here long enough to be _corrupted_?"

Ignoring her question, Seiya asked, "How _did_ you find her, anyway?"

"I told you, I heard her when she hit the ground!"

"Yes, but you didn't tell us what you were doing in the hallway to begin with."

Inhaling shakily, it took Serena a moment to stretch her memory back to that moment that now seemed so long ago. "I'd had a nightmare. I was… I was going to the kitchen, to get a drink of water. To clear my head. And might I remind everyone here that if I hadn't been there, Raye would be _dead_ right now! I can't believe you think that I had something to do with this."

"Now, now, no one is saying that," said Jadeite, running a hand through his blonde hair.

"That's not what I'm hearing."

"Prince Jadeite is right," Andrew said, his kind voice and gentle smile returning. "We're just pointing out how easy it could be for someone to jump to this conclusion, especially someone who didn't know you as well as we do."

In response, Serena swept a bitter glare over the three guardians. "I'm innocent. Not only that, but I saved her life."

"Of course, of course, and we're all immensely grateful!" agreed Andrew, but even his charming smile and twinkling eyes couldn't help Serena release her built-up resentment. "But perhaps, for your own safety, you should… eh… stay out of trouble for a few days."

"Trouble? It isn't exactly like I've been out _looking _for trouble, you know!"

"Oh, I do know. That isn't what I meant, mi'lady."

"Andrew may be right," Jadeite mused. "There's bound to be a lot of gossip going around about this, and it will be easy for uninvolved parties to point fingers. Maybe it will be best for you to… to…"

"Hide in my room until it all blows over?" Serena seethed.

"Exactly!"

Huffing, Serena threw up her hands. "Gladly!" she screamed, before storming off toward her bedroom.

* * *

_Please review._


	22. The Storytellers

A thousand reviews! Hooray! Thanks everyone who has reviewed and offered ideas and support. Enjoy!

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 22: The Storytellers  
_After a year had passed the king took himself another wife.  
She was a beautiful woman, but proud and haughty, and she could  
not bear that anyone else should surpass her in beauty.  
_from Snow White

Serena furiously paced the floor of her bedroom, unconcerned if she wore a hole through the carpet. How dare the guardians accuse her of attacking Raye? How dare anyone think for even a moment that she could be aiding evil Queen Beryl? The thought was absurd and had kept her blood at boiling point for over an hour, despite her throwing pillows against the walls and screaming into her mattress and stomping up and down the length of the room to try and let out some aggression.

So all right, she mused, maybe they hadn't outright accused her. Maybe the guardians and Prince Jadeite really did have her best interests, her own safety, in mind. If she stepped back and tried to look at the scenario from an outsider's perspective, she could see how rash conclusions could be reached. Sure, she was the outsider—the _foreigner._ Sure, she'd only been in the kingdom for, what, two weeks now? Sure, she had been "sneaking" around Raye's hallway at the time of the attack. And sure, she had been found hovering over her afterward.

But there was no motive! She adored Raye! She would never think of doing her any harm, or anyone in this kingdom for that matter.

Except maybe that creepy, cranky Lord Grimm. She wouldn't mind giving him a swift kick in the rear after the way he'd treated her—without even a speck of kindness or respect.

And speaking of Lord Grimm, she could _not_ understand everyone's idolatry of him! So he wrote stories. _B__ig deal._ Was he responsible for their existence, their livelihood, their health, their happily ever afters?

Well, come to think of it, he might be. Despite all that she'd read about the history of Aysel, and what the guardians had told her, she really didn't know much about this world. When it came down to the nuts and bolts of it, she was clueless. Talking wolves, solid clouds that open up into a different world, and tears that cure blindness were all proof that the normal laws of science did not apply. So how _did_ Lord Grimm fit into the whole picture?

And what about Lord Grimm the First, the old man who lived on Thornrose Lane, in her own world? She knew they were brothers—despite their personality differences, they looked very much alike.

Serena groaned, collapsing onto her bed. No matter how much she thought about it, her mind just kept running in circles. Something was off, something was wrong, but she didn't know what and her limited knowledge of Aysel and the rest of the fairy-tale world was getting her nowhere.

Still, regardless of what the guardians and everyone else thought of their beloved Lord Grimm, Serena had him pegged as guilty. They were all blind and ignorant, while se was the unbiased third party in this scenario, and she could recognize a man plagued by guilt when she saw one. All she needed to do was prove it.

First she needed a motive.

Which brought her to the other question she could think of no answer to: Why would Lord Grimm want to kill Raye?

She lay sprawled on her coverlet, staring up at the bed's canopy as those words rolled around in her head. It wasn't long before exhaustion and anger blurred the words incoherently. Finally, she let out a long sigh and closed her eyes, knowing that she would never be able to pinpoint Grimm's motives in this state of mind. Besides, she soon realized, she didn't know nearly enough about the man. All she did know was what she'd read about him and his brother—they were lawyers made famous by traveling all over Germany in search of passed-down stories, pulling them together into the first printed compilation of fairy tales. But now, in this world of their creation (or discovery?) she wasn't even sure that method of how they had collected their stories was true.

She knew that she would have to learn more about the cranky old man if she was going to get to the bottom of this.

A knock that normally would have seemed gentle and quiet startled Serena into bolting upright in bed. She sat there, still and gasping for a moment, listening for the knock again. The gray light coming through her sheers confirmed that she had fallen asleep, though not for long. She held her breath and listened for rain, but it had stopped.

The knock came again, more urgent this time, and Serena slid off her bed, fidgeting with her pajamas as she neared the door.

Raye was on the other side, her violet eyes wide and her skin just as porcelain-pale as always.

"Raye! What's wrong? Did something else happen?"

"No, no, nothing else. I'm sorry; did I wake you?" she asked in a rushed breath, not looking the least bit apologetic, but Serena didn't mind.

"Don't worry about it. Come in! What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't sleep. I haven't been able to sleep all night," she answered as Serena shut the door. "I guess I'm still a bit shaken. And I wanted to see you. I realized that I didn't thank you properly last night, so much was going on, what with Lord Grimm and… and that… guard…"

"Alex?" Serena asked, her voice dry.

"Mmm, Alex," Raye said noncommittally. "Can I have one of those?" She gestured to the tray of picked-over chocolates still sitting on Serena's nightstand that Mina had brought the previous evening. Without waiting for Serena's reply, though, she reached for a truffle and popped it whole into her mouth.

"Raye, are you all right? You seem… frazzled."

Lowering her eyes, the once-princess sunk into a chair beside the window and swallowed the treat, almost painfully, before looking at Serena again.

"Had you met this Alex before last night?"

Serena shook her head and sat on the edge of her bed. "No, it was the first time I'd met him."

"Really? But you seemed so familiar with him. When he introduced himself, that is."

"I'd heard of him. I met Princess Briar Rose at the wedding, and she'd mentioned him to me."

"What did she say?"

Raye's poorly-hidden eagerness made Serena feel awkward and she had to search her memory for what, exactly, the princess had told her. All she seemed to remember was the princess's claim of loving the guard.

"Not much. She told me that… he's brave and strong, but I would guess all royal guards are. Oh, and that he's a huntsman by trade. But that was about all. Why do you ask?"

Leaning back in the chair, her raven hair falling loosely over her shoulders, Raye let out a long sigh and stared dreamily at nothing. "Just curious, I suppose. I just… I find myself wanting to know everything there is to know about him."

Serena felt her stomach twisting at Raye's distant, whimsical smile. She thought of Princess Briar Rose, pining over this huntsman, who had the same expression as Raye when she spoke of him. And she thought of Jadeite, whose eyes followed Raye across a room like they were watching winter melt into spring.

"If you hear anything more about him, will you tell me?"

Snapped from her reverie, Serena met Raye's intense gaze. "What do you want to know?"

"I don't know," Raye said with a sudden laugh. "I have no idea. Just… something. Anything at all. Will you tell me?"

"Sure, but he isn't going to be here for very long."

"Oh? Where is he going?"

"Well… after Briar Rose's birthday I assume they'll all return to Obelia. The princess and her guard and…" The words trailed off and only Raye's confused gaze prompted her to finish, "…and Endymion."

Comprehension filled her eyes and Raye began fiddling with the cuff of her robe's sleeve. "Of course, Prince Endymion. So much has happened the last few days I keep forgetting that the two of them are betrothed and that there is to be yet another wedding."

"Yes, it seems rather easy to forget," Serena responded sourly. Their eyes met again and Serena could see infinite sympathy and understanding mirrored in Raye's eyes, forcing her to look away.

"You feel something for Endymion," Raye murmured.

"No," Serena instantly spat, then regretted the harsh tone and reached for a piece of chocolate to erase the word from her mouth, but it only left a chalky texture and stuck in her throat when she swallowed it. "I don't know," she amended quietly, looking up at Raye and cursing the tears that were pooling in her eyes. "I don't know what I feel."

Raye was beside her in an instant, wrapping her lithe arms around the blonde's shoulders. "You saved my life, Lady Serena," she whispered. "I'll do anything in my power to help you. Anything at all."

Serena forced a smile and found that it came easier than she'd expected. "When I come up with something, you'll be the first to know."

Returning the grin, Raye pulled Serena into a hug, then laughed. "I seem to find myself indebted to a lot of people these days."

With a shake of her head, Serena leaned back. "No, you owe me nothing. I did what I had to, and I know you would have done the same for me."

"It's true," Raye immediately agreed with a solid nod. "But I would still do anything to repay you."

"Your friendship is enough. Trusting me, and believing me… that's enough."

"Serena, you have innocent and trustworthy hanging over you like a halo. Who would ever not believe a word from your mouth?"

Serena muttered, "You might be surprised."

"What do you mean?"

Another knock on the door stopped Serena from telling her about the guardian's not-quite accusations. "Come in," Serena beckoned, and the door opened to reveal three excited and relieved princesses.

"Raye, are you all right?" Amy was the first to ask, practically running to the bed and throwing her arms around Raye's neck.

"Jadeite filled us in on everything," Mina said. "Well, actually, he told his brothers and they told us… and I heard some maids talking about it earlier, and a servant mentioned it over breakfast and… well, really, I think the whole castle must have heard the story by now."

"What Mina is trying to say," Lita said, helping herself to a chocolate truffle, "is that we were all so worried about you when we heard. How are you feeling?"

"Fine, fine," Raye said, squeezing Amy comfortingly and brushing their worries off with a wave of her hand. "No harm done, excepting a rattling to my nerves. Lady Serena rescued me."

"Yes, we heard that too," Amy said, taking Serena's hand with a smile that quickly fell to a frown. "Serena, have you been crying?"

"It's nothing, nothing!" Serena said, plastering on a smile. "I think my nerves are shot from all that's happened."

"Who could blame you?" Mina asked. "To think that Queen Beryl was in _my_ home…. It gives me the creeps."

"And to think it was my idea you come to the castle, Raye," Amy said. "If I'd known this would happen I never would have dreamed of asking you to be a bridesmaid."

"Don't you dare blame yourself for this," Raye interjected. "I've come to believe that there are few—if any—places that are safe from my stepmother. Even my cottage in the woods wasn't as secure as I thought it was." She glanced at Serena, who shuddered visibly at the remembrance of the dark well of water, the feel of sharp nails against her scalp and warm blood matting her hair.

"Stepmother?" the princesses asked in unison.

Clapping a hand over her mouth, Raye looked down, embarrassed at her slip. But she quickly recovered and inhaled a long breath, meeting their stunned gazes in turn. "Yes. Queen Beryl is my stepmother."

"But… that would make you…"

"Of _course._ Zoicite said you were introduced to him as Snow White. You're _the_ Princess Snow White!" Mina said, her mouth open with shock. "Raye, why didn't you tell me earlier? If I'd known, I would have been sure to double, triple the security near your quarters!"

Raye waved the suggestion away. "Please, that is exactly what I wanted to avoid. I'm no longer a princess, and I do not wish to be treated like one."

"It isn't about a title, Raye. It's about us caring about you, and wanting you to be safe. You are my guest, and my friend. If you're in danger, you need to tell me, otherwise how will I be able to protect you?" Mina said in an uncharacteristically stern tone.

"I second that," added Lita. "While I know that us girls who have had to work for our livelihood are by no means helpless, you need to know when you can't do it all by yourself. You need to know when to ask for help, and who to ask."

"And _we_ are who you ask," included Amy.

Suddenly shy with an onslaught of emotion, Raye managed to whisper, "Thank you. I… I will not forget this kindness."

"It isn't kindness. It's friendship. And this goes for you, too," Lita said, jabbing a finger in Serena's shoulder.

"What? Me? What did I do?"

"I'm not sure yet, but you're definitely hiding something. Smiling and giggling to yourself one day and crying the next? Not to mention your disappearance with that prince all day yesterday."

"And coming home soaking wet and covered in mud and looking beyond miserable. There's something between you two, isn't there?"

Serena forcefully shook her head. "You're all imagining things. I'm trying to help his romance with Briar Rose along. They are _engaged,_ after all."

"If they're already engaged, then why does their romance need helping?" Amy asked in that smart and shy manner of hers, and Serena lowered her eyes, afraid to answer.

"I get weird vibes from the two of them," Lita spoke up. "When they were dancing at the reception the other night, there was something odd about it. They both appeared so… distant."

"That's what I thought, too," admonished Raye, glancing at Serena. "But I saw something very different when he danced with you."

"I don't want to talk about this any more!" Serena practically screamed. "He is betrothed to the princess. They are going to get married and he will become King of Obelia and they _will_ be happy together! I know it… for a fact."

The girls exchanged glances, but stayed silent. After all, despite the lack of evidence of romance between Endymion and Briar Rose, they knew that a betrothal from birth was a guarantee for true love. The guardians, and Lord Grimm, always made sure of that.

After a bout of awkward silence, Amy quietly asked, "What was Lord Grimm like?"

"That's right!" said Mina with a gasp, excitedly taking Raye's hands into her own. "We heard that he came to your rescue!" Serena snorted, but went ignored. "I've never met him. He was supposed to come to Cytherea's blessing ceremony, but never showed—I'm sure with good reason. But what _is_ he like?"

Raye pondered the question while Serena rolled her eyes and fell back onto the blankets with disgust.

"He was quiet and shrouded in mystery. His appearance was grave and serious and his eyes full of wisdom and compassion. His words were few, yet well-spoken and meaningful." She sighed. "He was all I'd dreamt he would be."

The princesses watched Raye with glowing eyes.

"I would do almost anything to meet him, just once," Lita murmured, and the girls all nodded in agreement, until Serena bolted upright.

"Why? What is so great about him? If you ask me, he's just a cranky old hermit with nothing better to do than sulk around young girls' bedchambers!"

The girls gaped at Serena, before one-by-one lowering their eyes in mute discomfort. Mina was the last holding Serena's gaze, a look of pity in her eyes. "Oh, Serena, you should not talk about him in that manner. You don't understand Lord Grimm's presence in our world and are sure to embarrass yourself if you speak about him that way."

Serena sighed—a polite way of hiding her growl. "You're right. I don't understand his presence in your world. So could you please explain it to me?"

Mina folded her hands in her lap and appeared in deep concentration, before slowly stating, "I would be happy to try."

She cleared her voice, and began, "Once upon a time, this land was dead and barren, full of nothing but dirt and sand and hot winds. There were no lakes and no mountains for as far as the eye could see. At night there was only blackness—no moon and no stars. During the day the sun was swelteringly hot. No plants grew, and no people or animals lived.

"Then, one day, a group of five storytellers came to this world and saw potential in the wasteland they'd discovered. Together, they began to speak to the land, and the words fell from their lips like jewels. They spoke of blue skies and full moons and heavy rains. They spoke of forests with trees that touched the clouds and mountains full of gold and silver and wheat fields and apple orchards. They spoke of palaces and rivers and quaint houses with daisies in their gardens and wishing wells and cobblestone roads. They spoke of birds that woke up the sun with their singing and toads that lulled it to sleep with their croaking. And they spoke of people, brothers and sisters and mothers and fathers, enemies and lovers, dwarves and elves and fairies, and three royal families that would rule the three kingdoms: Aysel to the south, Obelia to the north, and Cashlin to the west. The east was designated a magical wood that the five storytellers would rule over themselves, a place where people from all lands could meet in harmony and seek out their unbiased help and advice."

"And two of them were the Grimm Brothers...?"

Mina frowned at the interruption, but responded, "Yes, there were the two Lord Grimms, along Lord Perrault, Lord Anderson, and the Mother."

"The Mother?"

"She liked to be called Mother Goose," Lita stated, curling her knees to her chest with a childish smile.

"Mother Goose? You've got to be kidding me." At another of Mina's harsh frowns, Serena leaned back ashamedly. "I'm sorry. Please, continue."

Mina nodded and cleared her throat. "Years, decades, and centuries passed. The three kingdoms flourished and prospered and lived in peace. The villagers were free to roam the countryside and visit the other kingdoms at their leisure. The storytellers often left their woods to attend ceremonies at their kingdoms, and give their blessings, and tell their fantastical tales of faraway lands.

"But there came a day when a thick fog came out of the woods and rolled over all of the kingdoms, covering the world in a dark and gloomy mist. It remained for twelve days and on the thirteenth day, the four Masters came out of the woods carrying a glass coffin—the Mother had come down with a horrible illness on the morning the fog first drifted in and was now dead. They set the coffin in the center of the crossroads that stood between the woods and the three kingdoms and for twelve days all of the citizens of all kingdoms were invited to come and pay homage to her body—which they did, bestowing the coffin with flowers and jewels. On the thirteenth day, the four remaining storytellers returned to the woods, taking the Mother's coffin with them.

"The Mother's coffin was never seen again and it's believed that she was buried somewhere in the woods. For many years people believed that her good spirit still walked among them, spreading the same blessings and warmth that she had in life."

"That's also where the glass coffin tradition came from," said Amy, tugging absently on her skirt.

"Glass coffin tradition?" Serena asked.

"Yes. Since the Mother's death it has been a custom for all queens and princesses to be placed in a glass coffin and displayed for twelve days upon their death, so that their loved ones may mourn and honor their lives before they are buried."

Serena snuck a glance at Raye, but the black-haired princess was gazing sorrowfully out the window and nodding her head to Mina's explanations.

"After the Mother's death," Mina continued, "the fog lifted and life in the three kingdoms went on as it always had, but some people began to notice odd tensions between the kingdoms, and mishaps that never would have happened before. A tower guard who had always sat atop the eastern wall mysteriously fell off one day. The candle maker's son slipped and landed on a lit candle, scorching himself and almost burning down their house in the process. The queen's loyal knave stole her tarts and mercilessly ran away with them. Little things, you see? And people chalked them all up to high tension in the aftermath of the Mother's death.

"But then, just as things seemed back to normal, another fog rolled down into the land. Again, it lasted for twelve days, and on the thirteenth day, three of the storytellers came out of the wood carrying a glass coffin—this time with the corpse of Lord Perrault. Again, the fog lifted and the people came to mourn him before he was taken away and put to eternal rest. And again, day-to-day occurrences began to go amiss. For example, servant girls who had been very good suddenly had reptiles falling out of their mouths when they spoke, whereas cruel, disdainful girls had jewels falling from theirs. Frightened and nervous, some villagers sought out the three remaining storytellers for reassurance and for the first time discovered that the enchanted woods that had once been beautiful and full of cheerful sounds and bright colors were now cold and cast in shadow. Nevertheless, they reached the cottage of the storytellers and asked them what was happening to their happy, enchanted lives. They were told that the world was in mourning for the death of the storytellers and that they should not worry and were sent home.

"Many more years and generations passed and the occasional mishap became normal, until the fog came again. This time, it was Lord Andersen who had died from the strange sickness, and the two Brothers Grimm brought the glass coffin down. Because of the changes to the enchanted woods, villagers no longer traveled to see the storytellers and were shocked to see time had worn on the brothers, bestowing them with wrinkles and graying hair. Nevertheless, their bodies were strong and able and after twelve days had passed, they took up Lord Andersen's coffin and disappeared into the forest. Not a week later, a goose boy went down to Schaum Lake and discovered that all the merpeople had been turned to foam on the water."

"How did he know that's what became of them?"

"The fish told him, of course."

Serena flinched. "Right, the fish."

"This was also the time when farmers who lived near the enchanted woods began to notice strange happenings at night: unusual shadows moving between the trees and lights flickering among the branches, the sounds of wistful singing or, even worse, desperate wailing. The word spread and soon the woods became known as the Haunted Woods, and no one dared venture inside, even to call upon the Lords Grimm."

Looking around at her companions, Serena noted that they all looked pale and tense. Mina's bright blue eyes were downcast and she had to pause from time to time in her telling to calm a trembling in her voice.

"It was a long, long time after the death of Master Andersen before the fog came again. This time, when it lifted, the lone Lord Grimm trekked down from the woods and informed the people that his brother had died of the same illness and he would bury him alone in the woods."

Serena started, her eyes widening in disbelief as she thought of the crazy old man on Thornrose Lane who had first sent her into this world. She opened her mouth to dispute Mina's claims, but the princess continued, ignorant of Serena's protest.

"Even without the glass coffin, the kingdom mourned the passing of their Lord Grimm, and then…"

Serena quickly changed her impending question. "Then what?"

"Then my mother died," Raye answered in a faraway voice.

"And Beryl married her way onto the throne of Cashlin," added Lita.

Mina had evidently reached the conclusion of her story and Serena let it sink in for a moment, before screwing up her face in thought and asking, "So… you worship Grimm because he isn't dead yet?"

Her companions gasped and Serena found herself staring at four angrily flushed faces. She backed away against the pillows. "I'm sorry. That maybe came out a bit more harsh that I wanted it to."

Biting the inside of her cheek, Amy reached forward and took Serena's hand, her blue eyes filled with intensity. "Don't you understand, Serena? Our world, our very livelihoods, were founded by the storytellers. They are our foundation and protection from all the evils this land naturally harbored. And with every coming fog, every illness and every death, this world grows worse. If Lord Grimm were to pass away…." She shuddered.

"Who knows what would happen?" Serena finished for her, to the nods of her companions. "I see," she murmured, squeezing Amy's hand, before standing and pacing the room. She knew that there was one missing piece to their puzzle—one that she was no longer sure she wanted to share.

Grimm's brother was still alive—in her world. Not being capable of carrying a glass coffin by oneself made an excellent excuse for Grimm, but claiming the death of his brother had been a lie.

But why, she wondered, would the old man she'd met on Thornrose Lane have left this world that he'd helped to create? Did he no longer care what happened in this land of fairy tales? No, she knew that couldn't be true. The whimsy in his voice when she'd met him had proven that he missed this world, and she was sure he would have come back—or stayed to begin with—had he the choice.

Perhaps he'd been afraid? But if the storytellers had as much power in this world as she was led to believe, what could he possibly have been afraid of?

Unless….

Serena gasped.

_Unless he was afraid of another storyteller, someone who was just as powerful—his own brother. _

What if Lord Grimm was somehow responsible for the deaths of his comrades? And his brother had been trying to escape before becoming another victim? Serena felt like she'd swallowed ice. She didn't know what Grimm's motivation would have been for getting rid of the other storytellers, but she was already beginning to form a few theories.

"So you see, Lady Serena," Raye interrupted her thoughts and Serena turned to her with shaken composure, "without Lord Grimm to watch over us, this world would be a miserable place to live in, much like Cashlin, my former kingdom, has become under Beryl's rule. That is why we honor and admire him; he is our one stability. Without him, we would be lost."

"But if he's protecting this land, why hasn't he done anything about Beryl?"

"He's only one man, Serena. When there were five storytellers they could have kept all evil at bay, but Lord Grimm is doing all he can, and I'm sure that he will conquer Beryl eventually. We must have faith and patience."

Serena held back a snort, thoroughly unconvinced, and turned her back so that the girls would not see the disbelief that she couldn't wipe off her face.

"Other than Beryl becoming queen, have other bad things happened since the death of Grimm's brother?"

"You don't think she's enough?" Lita murmured.

"I'm only curious…"

"Sure, other things, smaller things, as they have been happening since the death of Mother Goose. They just keep getting worse, and more plentiful. But Beryl… she tops it all. She could destroy this world. She could turn it back into the wasteland it used to be if she isn't stopped."

"How did she become queen anyway? Why did your father…?"

Raye shook her head. "He didn't know. She's a very good actress—no one knew what she was truly like, until it was too late. The two of them seemed so happy when they first got married… but my father didn't live to see even their first anniversary."

Serena gulped, but couldn't refrain from asking, "What happened to him?"

"Mysterious death in his sleep due to unknown causes," Raye drawled. "In other words, poison."

* * *

_Please review._


	23. Poison

Okay. More Serena/Endy interaction coming your way! Heaped with much angst, too.

Thanks to Phantasy Star, my fabulous editor, and all reviewers!

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 23: Poison  
"_Are you afraid that it might be poisoned?" said the old woman.  
"Look, I'll cut the apple in two. You eat the red part, and I'll eat the white."  
_from Snow White

"Beryl poisoned your father?" Serena asked, though the answer was clear.

Raye nodded. "It didn't take long after that for her to show her true colors. It surprised us all—she'd seemed so happy with my father, and with me. I remember on the wedding day she asked me to be her attendant, even though I was only six years old. I combed her hair and laced her corset and told her she was beautiful—because she was. She was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen and I felt proud to have her for a stepmother, and happy for my father to have found her. I remember looking over her shoulder and seeing our reflections in the mirror. She smiled at me and said that I was such a pretty little girl, that I might be as beautiful as she was one day, but I didn't believe her. Her skin was pale, but mine was as white as the dress she wore, and I felt like a ghost. My hair was so charcoal black that I thought it was dull and boring, not like her hair that was the mixed color of honey and roses. And my eyes were always the strangest purple color, while hers were like fire, like glowing brass, red and gold. Still, hearing her call me pretty made me feel warm and special, and I was so happy to be getting her as a new mother, and she seemed so happy to be getting me as a daughter, that I never even thought..."

"Red and gold?" Serena interrupted. She'd seen red and gold eyes before, she had the most distinct memory of it, but for a moment she could not remember where, or on whom.

The girls looked at her, and Raye nodded. "I always thought they were beautiful, though after I discovered what a witch she was—literally—I thought they were equally terrifying. I sometimes had the impression that she was trying to burn holes into my skin."

Shaking her head, Serena grasped her forehead, searching for an intangible memory. Red and gold eyes, they were clear in her thoughts. She could see them—she could _feel_ them. She wondered if perhaps she'd caught them in the well when Beryl had attacked her with the comb, but she knew that then the queen's figure had been only a shadow with crimson lips.

But another mirror, another time…

"Oh my god," she murmured, clapping her hands to her mouth as the memory filled itself in and she knew where she had seen Beryl's red and gold eyes—not in the well, but in the mirror belonging to Lord Grimm, on the wall of his near-empty shack. It had been only moments after she'd first stumbled into Aysel, and Grimm had locked her out of his cabin and she'd peered through the window and seen the crooked old man staring into the mirror, and the evil eyes peering back. She was amazed that she could have forgotten them at all—the mere thought of them brought bile to her mouth.

"Serena?"

A hand fell on her shoulder and Serena shirked it away, spinning to see Lita looking down on her with concern. "Are you—"

"I've seen them," Serena breathed, looking past Lita at the other girls across the room. "I've seen _her._"

"The Queen? Serena, where?" Raye stood, nerves tensing. "Here, in the castle, in Aysel?"

"No, in—" Serena stopped, thinking of the story, of the light in the girls' eyes when they spoke of the storyteller, of their _savior._ "In the well. I saw her in the well. I remember now."

Raye nodded, breathing a sigh of relief. "Of course. I saw her in the mirror last night, too."

"Well, you are both safe now," Mina said, launching to her feet and retying her bathrobe around her slim waist, "and I think we've had enough talk about that horrid woman for one morning. Why don't we all get dressed and go for a ride? There are some lovely meadows south of here, once you get past all the wheat. We can meet in the stables—will an hour be enough for you all?"

Amy laughed and shook her head. "I'm afraid I may be too recently married to go gallivanting about with you all. I'm missing Zoicite dreadfully already, and it's only been a couple of hours since I've seen him."

Lita nodded her agreement, and Mina snorted. "Marriage always ruins girls' social lives—it's a terribly tragedy, and I assure you both that this time will pass. But I understand, run back to your princes now. Raye, Serena, you'll go with me, won't you?" At their dubious looks, she looked about ready to burst into tears, or throw a tantrum. "You can't make me go by myself! Please, it's been so _long_ since I've had good female companions!"

Raye laughed and agreed. "The fresh air will do me good."

"An hour then," Mina confirmed, accepting Serena's silence as agreement, and the girls all left the room—to seek men or riding clothes as the situation went.

But once the door had closed, Serena swept to her wardrobe and dressed as quickly as she could. She was shaking. The flaming eyes in the mirror still plagued her.

Lord Grimm was evil and he was working with, or for, Queen Beryl.

Serena didn't know why, and she didn't know what she could do about it, but she knew it must be true. She just had to find someone—anyone—to listen to her.

Pulling on riding boots, she thought to tell Endymion. Perhaps he would listen, understand, trust… But the thought of facing him made her sick. She couldn't. Not after his false proclamation of love. Not after Trista's revelation of his true love for Briar Rose.

Serena tied her hair up without brushing it and knotted a cloak over her shoulders. It had started raining again.

_Not Endymion. Not the girls. But then, who?_

She was bursting with the secret she'd stumbled on. This life-or-death knowledge that involved every person in the castle, and that none would listen to. She felt she would tell a servant if she passed one. She felt she would tell a mule if it would listen to her.

"Lord Grimm is working for Queen Beryl!" she yelled at her empty room—the rain-splattered window and empty wine decanter and untouched bowl of fruit. "Lord Grimm tried to kill Raye. Maybe he tried to kill his brother. Maybe he _did_ kill the other storytellers. He's a murderer and a madman and he must be stopped!" Saying the words added to her conviction. She looked at the mirror above her vanity and felt stupid for saying the words without covering the glass first. Beryl could be watching her, right now. Those piercing red-gold eyes could be spying, those crimson lips could be laughing at Serena's brazen stupidity.

But then she felt empowered by the mirror's openness.

She reached into the basket of fruit and chose a glossy red apple—the seeded, fleshy fruit that symbolized death and poison and envy—and hurled it at the taunting glass.

It shattered.

Glass and apple shards made the desk and carpet glitter like stars and smell like cider.

"I will save this world by myself if I have to," she told the witch through the looking glass, but the words were meaningful only to her. The glass was broken and the witch was not listening.

She decided to tell Andrew, not because she wasn't mad at him anymore or because she thought that he would be more receiving of her accusations now than he had been last night, but because he was the first person she saw and she needed to tell someone. Someone other than a broken mirror.

As fate had it, Andrew was about to knock on her bedroom door when she pulled it open to leave and rescue the world in need of rescuing. She squealed in surprise and almost slammed the door on him in unwarranted fear, before catching herself and chastising him by saying his name in a very stern tone.

Andrew's pale green eyes stared at her with surprise—a little jumpy himself—and his pointed ears twitched. "Lady Serena, I did not mean to startle you. Where are you going?"

"Riding with Raye and Mina," she said, but then changed her mind and grabbed onto the elf's white sleeve, pulling him into the room and shutting the door. "No, I was going to find you, or someone, I wasn't sure who, but you'll have to do since you're here now and it's too important for me to be the only person who knows."

Andrew's gaze took in the shattered mirror with curiosity, but he did not mention it, and instead turned his attention back to Serena. "What is so important, Lady Serena?"

"Andrew, I know you don't want to hear this, but you have to listen to me. Lord Grimm _did_ try to kill Raye last night. I'm sure of it. No, don't interrupt, just listen. When I first got here, the first day, before I came to the castle, I saw Grimm at his house. I looked through the window because he'd locked me out and wouldn't talk to me and I saw him looking into a mirror, and inside the mirror was Beryl. I saw her, I'm sure of it. I don't know if they were talking. I don't know why he's working for her or why he wants to kill Raye, but I know what I saw and we have to stop him!"

She watched Andrew's expressionless face for a long while as he took in her certainty with his calm eyes. Finally, the elf pursed his lips and turned away, stroking his chin with his fingers. He was silent. Serena was beginning to wish she'd waited and told someone else, when Andrew regarded her again.

"Lady Serena," he began, slowly, and she felt her stomach plummet. "I believe you."

She sucked in more air than she thought her lungs could handle.

"But I'm not convinced that you're right."

"_What? _Andrew, I _saw_ her!"

"I'm sure, Lady Serena. I'm sure that you did. But we must seek out all possible explanations."

"What other explanation could there be?"

"I'm not sure, but I do have some information that you are not aware of, that could have an effect on your assumptions. That is what I was coming here to talk to you about."

"What? What could be more important than this?"

"Whatever the connection is between Lord Grimm and Queen Beryl, I do not know. But I do know that he was not Raye's attacker last night, nor is he the traitor that alerted Beryl to Raye's presence."

"How do you know that?"

"Because the traitor is Alex."

Serena's jaw hung. She was beginning to feel warm beneath the heavy cloak. "Alex?"

"Yes, Briar Rose's guard."

"But why would…. What…. Why Alex?"

"Please, we may not have much time, so I will explain this to you quickly. I told you last night that Alex seemed familiar to me, yes? In the clarity of this morning I remembered where I had seen him before. It was at Briar Rose's blessing ceremony, the one at which she was betrothed to Prince Endymion, and bestowed with Beryl's curse. Alex was a child then, perhaps twelve years at most, but he was an attendant to the queen, and in training for her personal guard. He stood at her side, depicting the rank he was being raised to inherit. Alex is working for the queen. He is the traitor."

Serena's heart constricted. "Good lord… But that means that Raye is still in danger!" She raced to the door, but Andrew called to her and she stopped, breathless.

"Serena, please, we must not be so rash."

"But Raye!"

"Raye is not Beryl's only enemy in this castle. There is another whom Alex is much closer to… whom he will find it much easier to perform Beryl's bidding on. I fear that Princess Briar Rose may be his next victim."

"Briar Rose? But he loves—" She gasped. "No…"

"It makes sense, doesn't it? He has seduced her, perhaps with magic, in order to keep her from her true love and guardian, the Prince Endymion."

"That is why…" She nearly choked on the disbelief welling inside her.

"It must be a very powerful spell to hide the love I felt so many years ago between the betrothed prince and princess, but it answers so many questions. Briar Rose and Endymion _are_ meant to be together, Alex is simply a diversion meant to keep their true romance from sparking. However, I wonder if their rendezvous this past week has begun to weaken his hold on the girl, which is why I fear he may prioritize her death over Raye's—anything to please his queen."

"That must explain Raye's infatuation with him, too," Serena murmured, falling against the door, clutching her stomach and sweating. "He must be using the same spell on her, though her feelings for Jadeite were so obvious before. Just like… Briar Rose's and Endymion's were to you…" She felt feverish and nauseated and angry—so bitterly angry—because she had still somehow hoped that it was all a mistake and that Endymion really did love _her_ after all.

But she shook it off and silently reprimanded her heart for the overwhelming selfishness. She tried to remind herself that Endymion's happiness was all that mattered. Her own desires were childish and meant nothing.

She turned back to Andrew, trembling. "But what if you're wrong and he goes after Raye again? I can't leave her alone!"

"I will go to Raye, and protect her. You go to the princess—I believe she is still in her room."

Serena nodded. "Fine. Raye will be in the stables, with Mina."

"I will have the word sent out that Alex is to be arrested if found, but if you see him, pretend that you know nothing. He will not try to harm you so long as he can go about unsuspected, and he will certainly do nothing to Briar Rose so long as she is with company. I wish you luck and safety, Chosen One."

* * *

When Serena barged into Briar Rose's room, she found the princess sitting beside the window, her forehead pressed against the glass and one hand clenched in front of her stomach. Serena sighed with relief and tried to catch her breath, having run the whole way from her room with visions of the princess crumpled and bleeding on the floor flashing before her. 

"Princess, you're okay!" she panted, hoping the princess wouldn't mind her bursting in uninvited, but she couldn't stand to knock.

But Briar Rose had no reaction at all. Her gaze was unblinking on the gray world and her face was paler than usual.

"Princess?" Serena murmured, her worries returning as she approached the girl and wondered if it was possible for one to look so alive and yet be dead. Her heart jumped when the princess blinked, once, still staring. "Briar Rose, what's wrong?" Serena slowly seated herself in the chair facing the princess and reached forward, running a gentle finger along the girl's whitened knuckles.

Briar Rose started and looked at Serena for the first time, drawing her hand back and up toward her heart. Her eyes were red and swollen and she had the distraught look of one awoken from a nightmare. Serena gulped nervously.

"Briar… Rose?"

The princess sobbed and slumped over like a rag doll, her hair tumbling past her knees and brushing on the carpet, her shoulders shaking. Serena gaped at her, and then reached forward and pulled the girl's hair back, holding it back behind her neck and steadily kneeling down before her. "Briar Rose, what happened?"

Without ceasing her crying, the princess held out her fist and loosened her fingers, revealing a crumpled slip of paper. Serena took it and the princess's fingers snapped closed again as soon as it was away from her.

Serena unraveled the paper, keeping one hand comfortingly on the princess's hair, and read:

_My Admirable Princess,_

_It has been ever an honor to be in the employment and company of your family and yourself and I am eternally grateful for the goodness you have bestowed upon me. However, I regret that I will not be accompanying the Prince Endymion and yourself on the return to Obelia. I have recently made the acquaintance of another guest here, the Lady Raye, Friend of Dwarfs, who I have become immediately and hopelessly fond of. I bid you only happiness in your upcoming marriage._

_Sincerely and With Kind Regards,_

_Alex  
__Royal Guard to the Obelia Royal Family_

Serena frowned, then squeezed her tired eyes shut and shook her head, opened them and read the letter again.

"When did he give this to you?"

The princess didn't seem to hear her over her sobs, but Serena figured the letter couldn't have been written for long, as Alex and Raye had only met mere hours ago. There was a sinking, nauseous feeling in her gut and she wondered what this meant for Raye, and what Alex—and Beryl—were up to by crafting this letter.

Folding it up again, she slipped the note into her bodice and sighed, tucking a strand of Briar Rose's hair behind her ear and wondering what she could say to a girl who's broken heart was a result of a cruel love spell by an evil man who'd never loved her to begin with.

"Briar Rose, I'm sorry."

Roughly shaking her head, the princess hugged her knees and sobbed, "He was never mine." More crying, sniffling, while Serena pet her tangled hair, before finally Briar Rose lifted her head and looked into Serena's sorrowful blue eyes. "I was so wrong. I've been so stupid this whole time, hanging onto a child's adoration. He never loved me back. I pretended that his compliments and the looks he gave me were hints of his feelings, but they weren't. It was all in my imagination. He was never mine, Serena. And I can't even hate him for lying to me, because he never claimed to feel anything… anything inappropriate. Not even once. He's so…" She started to cry again and buried her face in her hands. "So… admirable! And he taunts me by calling _me_ admirable, and he doesn't know that I tried to disobey my parents and cancel the betrothal they made for me. I'm wretched. I'm so wretched."

"Briar Rose, you had no way of knowing. You were following your heart and no one can blame you for that."

"And all this time I thought I had his heart to guide me," she murmured into her palms. Then she inhaled a long, wobbling breath, and when she pulled her hands away her face was flushed and wet—but emotionless as stone. Serena shrank away at the look.

"Forgive me, Lady Serena," she said, her voice frighteningly emotionless. "I'm going to marry Endymion. You'll hate me forever and that's your right, but I have no other choice now."

Serena wasn't sure what the princess expected her to say. "Of course, Briar Rose, and I won't hate you. He's been yours all along, you know. And he's a good man and I think you'll find that you're much happier with him than you ever would have been with Alex."

Briar Rose pursed her lips until they were white. Again, Serena reached to take her hand in a show of understanding and friendship, but again the princess drew it harshly away. "Please leave, now. I have to prepare myself for a life no longer worth living."

Part of Serena wanted to stay, as a true friend would, but she thought Briar Rose didn't exactly fall into the friend category, and she had no reason for staying. She'd done what she came to do. She was to find out if the princess was well and safe from the clutches of Beryl's henchman.

She'd determined that the princess was neither, but that there was nothing she could do about it.

Slipping out into the hallway, she shut the door behind her and inhaled a breath so deep she could feel her lungs pushing against her ribs.

"Lady Serena."

She choked and looked at Endymion. He appeared uncomfortable and like he didn't know what to do with his hands, which looked so awkward compared with his usual complacency.

"Prince Endymion," she said in an attempt to sound as normal as he had been trying to sound. It was the first time she'd seen him since their adventure in the giant's castle and she knew he was thinking the same thing. She stepped away from the door. "You must be here to see your bride. I was just going to—"

"A servant told me she saw you running in this direction not long ago. I… was coming to see if everything was all right."

She turned away. "Thank you for your concern. Everything's fine."

"Good, because that was a lie."

Frowning, she turned to face him, and looking at his face full of the most regretful honesty made tears prick at her eyes and she felt suddenly exhausted and drained.

"I was looking for you. I've been looking for you all morning. A servant did tell me you came running this way, but only because I asked if they'd seen you. And I wasn't really coming to see if everything was all right, except to make sure that _you_ were okay. Mostly I just wanted to see you."

She gaped and cursed her shortening breath. "Well, you saw me, and I have to go check on Raye," she quipped.

"Serena, I've been thinking about this night and day. I haven't slept, I've just been wracking my brain for an explanation of what happened, of what Trista said, and I figured it out, and you have to listen, and you have to believe me."

She glared up at him, hating the pleading she saw on his face because it almost made her forget about the soul bond between him and Briar Rose. It almost made her forget there even was such a thing as a truth-singing harp. She wanted to tell him there was nothing to explain, to remind him that Trista always sang the truth and they'd both heard her loud and clear, but she couldn't. Not when he was looking at her like that.

"What? What did you figure out?"

"_A love unmatched by time, a love only fate knows, will in your future shine should you marry Briar Rose."_

"Yeah, I was there, Endymion, you don't need to reiterate," she snapped, surprised at how much the words stung to hear again.

He shook his head and took an unsure step closer to her, in return sending her one unsure step back.

"What if it was a play on words, Serena? What if Trista was trying to mess with our heads? What if she was using 'Briar Rose' as a nickname for you—because you can be as harsh and irritating as a thorn, and yet you're as beautiful as a rose? Maybe she was talking about you all along?"

Serena snorted. "_Clearly_ you need to get some sleep, because that is the stupidest thing I have ever heard! Honestly, Endymion, are you listening to yourself? It was your idea to ask Trista the question in the first place. Just because you don't like the answer she gave doesn't make it any less true!"

"No, you're not listening…"

"I am listening! And I'm telling you that you're wrong, that you're going to marry Briar Rose, and that you're going to love her and be happy and forget all about me, and damnit, I'm going home!"

She turned and went to stomp away, but Endymion grabbed her shoulder and spun her around again. "Serena, I love you. Fine, maybe the harp is right. Maybe I _would _be happier with Briar Rose. But happiness is not that important to me! Not if it means living without you. Don't you get that? Until I met you I didn't even _believe _in love, and I told you before that love in this world is a joke. The fact that you make me feel something—anything—should be proof enough that we are meant to be together, and I just can't settle for some cookie-cutter marriage knowing that you're out there somewhere." He sighed and cupped her cheek with a shaking hand. "I haven't changed my mind. If anything this whole harp business has proved to me even more how much I want to be with you. I meant what I said before. Take me to your world with you. Marry me."

"No!" Serena shrieked, pushing him away as forcefully as she could. "Your _fiancé_ is right through that door! And you're being so selfish! What about your parents, your kingdom, Briar Rose's kingdom?"

"None of that matters to me!"

"Well maybe they should!"

He growled in frustration and drew his hands back through his hair. "Please, it isn't like Briar Rose wouldn't be perfectly happy if I disappeared the day before our wedding. She doesn't love me any more than I love her, and then she would be free to go and marry whomever she chooses."

Serena glowered at the marble floor and felt sick for the words she was about to say. "You're wrong, Endymion. Briar Rose told me, just now, that she wants to marry you."

"What?" he hissed. "That's impossible. She's never given any indication…"

Serena shrugged, feeling a tinge of confidence since she'd already started lying, and the first lie was always the hardest. "Maybe she was playing hard to get, or just being shy. But it's true. She wants to marry you. She sent me away so that she could prepare for the wedding and for life… with you."

Disbelief written on Endymion's face, he slowly shook his head. "It doesn't make any sense. Why would she tell you this?"

"I'm the Chosen One, Endymion, in case you'd forgotten. I have a responsibility to make everything right in this world, and I'm sure Briar Rose felt that she could trust me. And she _can._ So if you want to run away and ruin your chance at a happy marriage to your betrothed, _fine, _but I will have nothing to do with it."

This time when she stormed away, Endymion did nothing to stop her.

* * *

The sky was barely drizzling and there were two guards standing in front of the stables when Serena arrived. 

"I'm sorry, mi'lady," one said, blocking her path when Serena tried to ignore them and trudge on past, "but we are forbidden to let anyone into the stables at this time. Please return to the castle."

Serena glowered at the man. "What are you talking about? They're stables, not the crown jewels! Let me through, I have a meeting with Princess Mina!"

The man's expression was full of pity, which angered Serena more. "My sincerest apologies, mi'lady, but—"

"No, let her through." Andrew appeared behind the guards, his hands tucked into the sleeves of his tunic, his hair still damp from trekking through the rain. "She is the Chosen One. Let her through."

The guards traded looks but stepped aside without argument, bowing as Serena passed them. "Andrew, what is going on?"

The elf shook his head, lowering his eyes. "I was too late." Turning, he led Serena back past the first set of stables, their feet padding on the dirt and hay. Serena ignored the pungent horse aroma as she gaped at the back of Andrew's head and followed him mutely past the rows of mares. Over his shoulder she saw Mina, dressed in riding clothes, and Seiya standing silently beside her.

"Oh, Serena!" Mina cried and Serena saw that her eyes were red.

"What's going on?"

"Don't take her in there," the princess said to Andrew. "She doesn't need to see. It's too terrible…"

"Mina?"

"I'm afraid she must see," Andrew sighed. "It is terrible, but I'm afraid she must." He led Serena past the two and Serena saw Seiya's gray-blue eyes locked on the far wall, his face expressionless as usual, the black tear tattoo the only sign of feeling. She tore her eyes away from him and walked into the last stable, already knowing what awaited her there.

It made it no easier to see.

Raye was dead.

Her body lay limp and breathless, her hair tangled in the hay. The fingers of one outstretched hand pointed to a barely-bitten red apple that had rolled a few inches away. Her skin, still white as snow, looked more ashen than porcelain, and her lips, still red as blood, carried a few drops of true blood on them.

Serena clenched her jaw, her eyes steaming, and walked gingerly toward the princess, not bothering to call her name. She could hear Mina sniffling on the other side of the short stable wall and feel Andrew's presence beside her. Gulping, she bent down and picked up the apple by the stem. Straw stuck to the juices where Raye had bitten it.

"This should be disposed of," she whispered into the eerie sound of death and mourning, pulling a strand of hair off of Raye's parted lips with her free hand. "And bring Prince Jadeite as soon as possible. He's the only one who will be able to save her."

"That will not be possible, Lady Serena."

She glanced at the elf over her shoulder. "Why not?"

"Because Master Jadeite… is also dead."

* * *

_Please review._


	24. The Glass Coffin

Happy Almost Halloween!!

This is the last post before NaNoWriMo, which I am competing in once again this year. Though it's going to be a hectic month, I will try my best to squeeze in at least one or two posts, so don't panic.

And wish me luck! One week to go and I'm not even sure which story idea I'm going to be working on yet! (eek)

Thanks to all reviewers and Phantasy Star for doing such a thorough editing job!

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 24: The Glass Coffin  
_They made a glass coffin so that she could be seen from all sides.  
Then they put her in it, wrote her name on it in gold letters,  
and added that she was a princess._  
from Snow White

"Jadeite—_dead_?" Serena cried, her hand flying to her mouth.

Andrew gestured with his arm and Serena spun around to see Jadeite's lifeless body propped against a stable wall, the hilt of a sword jutting up from his stomach.

"Oh, dear God," Serena breathed, dropping the poisoned apple and forcing her eyes up to the elf in the doorway. "How? Who?"

"It was Alex, the henchman of Queen Beryl, the pretend guard of Princess Briar Rose. He murdered them both."

"You know for sure?" she asked, her voice wavering.

"I know for sure. It is his sword." Andrew paused, his light eyes flickering back to the dead princess. "He has already been arrested and thrown into the dungeon, on my word and the command of Princess Mina. He, at least, will harm no one else in this kingdom. But Beryl will not stop there. Lady Serena, what will you do?"

An angry sob escaped her and Serena lurched forward, collapsing into the hay. "Nothing! I can't do _anything_!"

Mina heard her crying from around the corner and came to comfort the girl as Andrew watched with solemn eyes.

"Come on, let's go back to the castle," Mina urged. "Nothing can be done here. We have to let the dwarfs know…" Her voice broke, but she lifted Serena from the ground with ease and led her back through the stables. The walk across the field and garden was a blur to Serena, until she staggered to the castle door on Mina's arm and saw Endymion at the top of the stairs. Serena could not stop crying when she saw him. His eyes shimmered, but his jaw was set.

"Your… your brother…"

"I know."

Gasping for air, Serena lowered her gaze. Mina guided her up the stairs in silence.

"Could you have stopped it?" Endymion asked as they passed him, forcing the girls to stop.

Serena could not bring herself to look at him and shrugged off Mina's protective arm. "I don't know," she whispered dryly. "Could you?"

When he didn't answer she turned to walk away.

"Perhaps," he finally whispered, and she had to stop again, and this time raised her eyes to see his face—passive and dejected. "Perhaps I could have stopped it. If I hadn't been so—"

_Distracted. Preoccupied._

He'd been with _her_ when it had happened.

Serena considered telling him that there was no way he could have known what was happening, that he had nothing to do with it, that he couldn't blame himself. But she didn't. A part of her was angry at him, maybe because he wasn't trying to comfort her at all. Besides, she didn't see the point. Let him blame himself for everything. Let him blame his imagined love for everything.

After all, maybe love was to blame. For everything.

"Perhaps," she said.

* * *

Briar Rose was standing outside of Serena's bedroom, wringing her hands, and Serena felt her heart plummet. The last thing she wanted was to see Endymion's fiancé and have to comfort and console her—again.

"Serena!" the princess cried when she saw her. "They've taken Alex. I saw the guards arrest him. Please, what's going on? Where have they taken him? What's happened?"

Serena felt a headache throbbing at the base of her skull and all of her patience worn thin by the onslaught of tragedy and death and heartbreak the last hours had brought her.

"He was arrested, he was thrown in the dungeon. Briar Rose, please, I need to be alone. Just for a little while. Please."

"Why?" the princess shrieked, hysterical. "Why did they arrest him? _What's going on?_"

Serena groaned and leaned her forehead against her bedroom door, one hand on the knob. "He's working for Queen Beryl."

"_What?_Alex? No, there's been a mistake."

"No, Princess, no mistake. He's one of the queen's top henchmen. He was sent here to kill her stepdaughter, Raye, formerly known as Snow White. Hell, he was probably sent here to kill you, too."

"Serena!" Briar Rose growled, clamping one hand onto Serena's arm. "This is insane. Please, Alex is a good man. He's kind and gentle. He would never hurt a soul! He redeemed himself from his servitude to Beryl_years _ago. There's clearly been a mistake!"

Serena snapped her gaze toward the princess. "You _knew_ that he worked for Beryl?"

Briar Rose's jaw dropped, before she frowned and vigorously shook Serena's arm. "Of course I knew! I _love_ him! I know everything about him, and you and everyone are wrong about him. He doesn't work for her anymore. He's a good man. We have to set things straight—they have to let him go!"

Serena pried Briar Rose's grip from her arm and shoved her away. "You're wrong. He has you under a spell and that's why you can't see it. He is evil and he is working for the queen and he murdered Raye and Jadeite. He _murdered _them."

The princess gawked. "Murdered? Lady Raye and… and the prince…?"

"They were found this morning. Jadeite had Alex's sword…" Serena turned away, her throat tightening. "Alex is not a good man."

"I'm telling you it isn't possible. I know him better than anyone. There's been a mistake."

"Princess, please…"

"It doesn't make sense. What about the letter he gave me? He was in…" she caught her breath and shook her head and continued. "He was in_love_ with Raye. Why would he hurt her?"

Scoffing, Serena reached into her bodice and pulled out the note Alex had left for the princess just that morning. "He didn't _mean_ it, Briar Rose. It was a scam! A lie! Everything he has ever told you was a lie! Maybe he wanted to use this note as an alibi, so that everyone else would ask that same question: Why would he kill a woman he loved? Or maybe he _did _love her and when he stumbled on her and Jadeite together he killed them both in a jealous rage. I don't know why he wrote the letter. But he killed them, and you're being naïve."

She ignored Briar Rose's indignant reply, fleeing into her room and slamming the door behind her.

The carpet by her vanity was still littered with broken glass and the rotting pieces of apple that she'd thrown at the mirror in a fit of anger. Sobbing, she collapsed to the floor amidst the shards, wishing that she had a hundred more apples to throw at a hundred more mirrors. She felt sick and livid and exhausted and helpless.

"I don't want to be here anymore," she whimpered to a hundred tiny reflections. "I want to go home. I just want to go home."

And there she cried and cried until she finally—hours later—fell asleep among the glass.

* * *

She was awoken by knocking at her door. Opening her eyes slowly she saw moonlight glittering all around her, reflected on the mirror shards. She listened until the knock came again and then sat up with a grunt, wondering if it had all been a horrible nightmare, but the taste of salt on her lips suggested that it had not.

The knock came again and she climbed to her feet and opened the bedroom door.

It was Endymion.

"What time is it?" she murmured drowsily.

"Late," he said, and stepped into the room, his eyes sweeping over the broken glass on the floor, before meeting hers without the slightest hint of curiosity. But the look faded and his eyes were only haunted and determined. He was dressed in his hunting clothes, a sword buckled on his hip and likely a dozen other weapons hidden among the cloak.

"Endymion?"

"I was going to leave without telling you goodbye," he said in that painfully matter-of-fact tone he'd perfected, "but I couldn't."

"Leave?" Serena asked, rubbing the dried up salt from her cheeks. "Where are you going?"

"To Cashlin. I'm going to kill Beryl and avenge my brother's death."

Serena blinked, quickly turning her surprise to disapproval. "Endymion, don't be stupid! She's the most powerful witch who has ever lived. Do you really think that you can do anything to her?"

His face softened, the tiniest fleck of mirth entering his eyes. "I think I have as good a chance as anyone."

"But what if she kills you?"

"Would you mourn for me?"

"Endymion!" she cried, wanting to chastise him for asking a question she couldn't answer and scream at him for heading off for such danger and beg him to stay because the kingdom needed him and Briar Rose needed him. But mostly because she couldn't stand the thought of him leaving, not when so much was happening. Perhaps s_he_ needed him.

He lowered his eyes. "I've never been afraid of death, Serena. Why should I be now?"

"Because it's a lot more likely this time?"

His lips twitched upward and she clenched her fists, agitated at his arrogance. "Maybe you just don't want to see me leave?"

Serena threw her arms exasperatedly into the air. "Of course I don't want you to leave! You're the best hunter in the kingdom, don't you think we might be able to use you here if some more of Beryl's henchman show up? Or what if she comes here or… or…. Besides, tomorrow is Briar Rose's birthday!"

She expected him to cringe and dodge the subject of his fiancé, as he always did, but instead he only shrugged. "And I don't love her any more than I did yesterday, or the day before. Serena, I didn't come here to fight with you. I just thought you deserved to know that I was leaving. And… I just wanted to see you again. In case I _do _die."

"Endymion, please…. It's crazy. It's stupid, and… and you just shouldn't! By yourself? It's suicide!" But she could tell that he would not waver and felt her resolve crumbling. "Fine!" she screamed. "Go then! Go get yourself killed!"

He smiled sadly and reached a hand up to her face. She couldn't pull away and so hid her face with her hands.

"Serena, I have a favor to ask of you."

"No, I won't do anything for you."

"All right. You don't have to. But I'm going to ask anyway." He gently pulled her hands away from her face but she angrily squeezed her eyes shut to avoid his pleading blue eyes. "If I die, and you go back to your world, I want you to give a kiss to that boy."

"What boy?" she asked, momentarily forgetting her distress at the unexpected request.

Endymion barely chuckled. "You know, that boy. The other me."

It took a moment to realize who he was talking about, and then remember his name. "Darien Shields?"

"Sure."

"You're not making any sense."

"It makes sense to me. I figure that if he's so much like me then he must be in love with you."

"You're not—"

"And if I can't have you, I think I'd prefer my otherworldly twin to have you instead. It may be the closest to kissing you I will ever come, because I have the peculiar sense that you aren't going to let me kiss you now."

She hated him at that moment, when he was so close and his hand was so tender. She hated that she painfully, desperately wanted to let him kiss her. But she lowered her eyes. It was as much rejection as she could muster.

"I thought not," he murmured, but there was humor in his tone.

"He isn't _you,_ Endymion."

"I know. Which is what brings me to request number two."

"I already told you I won't do anything for you if you leave."

"If I survive," he said, ignoring her, "it will mean that Beryl is dead and all the evil she's cast in this world has been eradicated. And then I am going to come back and if you haven't left for your world yet, I'm going to ask you to marry me again."

"Endy—"

"And all I ask is that you think about it. Briar Rose's curse will be broken and she won't need me. Beryl will be gone and this world won't need you as their Chosen One. And I'm still going to love you."

She sobbed and tried to cover her face again, but instead found her body crushed against Endymion chest as he wrapped his arms tightly around her shoulders, holding her as she started to cry against him.

"All I ask is that you think about it."

"I'll do nothing for you. Nothing…"

She felt him nod, the beginning of his evening stubble rubbing against her forehead. "Stay out of trouble, Serena. I know you think you have all these crazy responsibilities around here, but it's all meaningless if anything happens to you. Protect yourself first. I'll come back if I can."

Then he released her as quickly as he had first grabbed her and left the room. Serena cried, standing alone in her room and staring silently out into the deserted hallway, and thought that she should have let him kiss her.

Uncounted moments later, a flutter of purple dragonfly wings appeared in her vision and Serena gasped, startled, and shook herself from the onslaught of mourning.

"Well, quite the Chosen One _you_ are," Hota hissed, her hands on her hips as she hovered in the doorway. "Where have you been all day? The kingdom is a mess! Snow White and Jadeite dead, Beryl's henchmen prowling the castle, the royal family in mourning, and you up here hiding from it all! And where was Endymion heading earlier? I know he was up here but he would talk to no one!"

"He left."

"Left? What do you mean _left?_"

"He was going to Cashlin to kill Beryl and avenge Jadeite's death."

"Cashlin! To kill Beryl! The day before Briar Rose—! Why didn't you stop him?"

"I tried! But what did you want me to say? Nothing short of proclaiming my undying love could have kept him here and goodness knows I'm forbidden from doing _that!_"

Hota's jaw fell and for a moment it looked as if even her wings would stop beating, but they did not and a moment later she looked angrier than ever, her small face turning cherry red. "Well, doesn't that just add a bit of drama to everything. I thought we'd been through this, Serena. I thought you realized that you didn't truly love him. It's all been a hoax. A spell."

"I don't care what it's been. It killed me watching him leave without being able to tell him the one thing I wanted to."

"_Killed_ you?" Hota said coolly, pursing her lips. "Speak not of death, child. Not with one prince being prepared for burial and one princess already beneath glass."

"Already beneath glass?"

"Yes. The dwarfs started construction on her coffin as soon as they heard. There was a small ceremony earlier, which you missed."

"No one came to tell me."

"And they will be setting out for the Enchanted Forest within the hour."

"Why not wait until morning?"

Hota shook her head. "Unlike some people, the dwarfs will not sleep tonight. So what does it matter?"

Serena flinched but could muster no response before Hota had flown away in disgust. She felt tears—angry, disappointed, rejected—welling up again, but inhaled a long breath and held it until her lungs burned, then swiped at her eyes and refused to let the tears fall. "Enough of that," she muttered to herself.

Still fully dressed, she hurried out into the castle. It didn't take long to reach the stables, and she was grateful to see the forms of seven small men standing out in the open. At least she would not have to go into those horrid stables again.

They all stood around a glass coffin that shimmered in the moonlight. It was only then that Serena realized the heavy storm clouds had rolled away to reveal a clear night sky. A sharp wind reminded her, though, that it was indeed autumn, and she tightened the cloak around her shoulders. The bottom half of the coffin was made from a rich-colored wood and as she approached, Serena could make out carvings in the sides of animals and flowers and the moon and the sun and—at the foot of the coffin—a dead apple tree. She was astonished that the dwarfs had been able to create something of such stunning craftsmanship in so little time.

The top half of the coffin was domed glass, perfectly framing the vision that lay inside. Raye had been redressed in a white satin gown, her hair combed and arranged around her shoulders, curling softly around her arms. Her hands were clasped on her stomach, holding the bitten apple. Just as the girl's beauty would never fade, it looked as though the apple would never spoil. Its skin was the same glossy red as her lips.

Gralogwid was the first to notice her approach and nod in greeting. Soon, his six brothers had recognized her and nodded their silent welcome. She saw that there was not a dry eye among them.

The dwarfs returned to their silent reminiscing, heads bowed, eyes cast down toward the ground and their princess. Serena joined them, folding her hands in front of her stomach, closing her eyes, and thinking about all the wonderful things she knew about Raye, even though she'd only known her a few days. Her spirit, her charm, her wit, how much she loved the dwarfs and their cottage in the woods, how she cared about beautiful things and innocent creatures. Serena thought of the bond Raye had instantaneously formed with little Hansel and briefly wondered if anyone had bothered to tell the children what had happened. She thought that once this small funeral-like procession was done, she should go find them. Tell them, if she had to, and be there to comfort them. She wondered if they had ever experienced death before, and now two of their favorite people—Raye and Jadeite—were gone.

She felt tears dripping down her chin again, but did not chastise herself for them this time. They felt cleansing. Respectful. Kind.

A cloud passed over the moon, sending the world into shadow, and the dwarfs all stepped forward and without word lifted the coffin from the ground. Carrying it on their shoulders, they began to walk off toward the woods that covered the eastern horizon. The tops of the trees swayed like murky shadows against the navy sky.

Serena stood where she was and watched them go. They moved slowly and deliberately so as not to jar their precious load. As they disappeared into the blackness, Serena had the distinct feeling that she would never see the dwarfs again. A chill swept across her and she instinctively held the cloak closer to her body. A moment later, the moon broke through the clouds again, but the dwarfs were gone.

* * *

Hansel and Gretel had been put into the care of Madame Foxglove, the old nurse of all five princes who had tutored and raised them when their parents were too busy with diplomatic duties. When she had retired, Madame Foxglove had been given a small cottage at the edge of town, where she kept a garden and watched the townspeople's children when needed. When she'd first been introduced to Hansel and Gretel—on the morning of the double wedding ceremony—she'd been delighted to have permanent wards in her motherly affection.

Serena found Madame Foxglove's cottage without trouble—all the townspeople knew just where to direct her—and knocked softly on the door. Upon entering, she realized that she was not the only one who had been concerned for the children. Amy and Zoicite were already seated on the floor of the small parlor, the brother and sister each occupying one of Amy's knees. At Serena's entrance, Madame Foxglove came scurrying in from a tiny kitchen in the back wearing an orange apron and a bright blue calico dress.

"Why, more company still!" she said. "If I'd have known my little home would be so popular today, I would have bothered to clean. You must be Lady Serena. I've heard much about you, lass. Would you like a cup of tea?" On queue, a screeching whistle sounded from the kitchen.

"Please… thank you." Serena closed the door behind her and the woman scuttled back toward her kitchen.

"Lady Serena, I'm so glad you came to join us," said Zoicite, looking up at her with a half-smile.

She tried to return the look but felt her heart breaking at the reminder of yet one more brother suffering from the morning's loss. "Zoicite, I'm so sorry…" she whispered brokenly.

The prince nodded, his smile falling. "Thank you."

"Please, sit," said Amy and Serena claimed a spot on the carpet across from them. The carpet was plush and comfortable, and the room itself was painted a warm, vibrant brick color with aged white wainscoting bordering the lower half of the walls. A plant stand stood beneath an eyelet-covered window, holding terracotta pots of daisies and herbs. The house was neither rich nor drab, elegant nor ugly. It was eclectic and warm and interesting.

"I wanted to see Hansel and Gretel," Serena said, tying her hands together. "I wasn't sure if anyone had… told them."

"Raye and Jade are gone," Hansel said in a tone of certainty, confirming that they had, indeed, been told.

"Yes," Serena said.

"And they're not coming back."

"No."

"We're going to miss them."

"Yes," Serena said, nodding. "We are."

Serena wasn't sure if the children had cried earlier, but their eyes were dry now as Amy held them. Gretel was sucking on a strand of her hair, her head nuzzled beneath Amy's chin and her wide green eyes staring across the room at Serena. She had one hand wrapped around two of Hansel's fingers. Her brother was sitting up straight with his hands on his knees, determined to be strong.

"Are you both okay? Do you want to talk about it at all? Or do you have any questions?"

"We know what death is," said Hansel.

"But it's okay to be sad."

"I'm sad," said Gretel through a mouthful of hair.

"We're sad," agreed Hansel. "But now they're together in that place where good people go. They're happy there."

Serena's lips tilted up slightly.

"Raye was the prettiest lady ever," Gretel murmured, mostly to herself. "I think Jade liked her."

"Of course he did. I liked her too," Hansel said, looking at his sister, but Gretel shook her head at him.

"I think he liked her more than you did."

Hansel looked about to refute, but he paused. "I think she liked him, too."

Gretel nodded and there were no more words anyone could say. The children's simple observations had stated as fact what the adults had only entertained as rumored fancy, and they all knew that the children were probably right.

Madame Foxglove appeared in the doorway with a tray of tea and Serena wondered if she'd been waiting for the conversation to run its course before interrupting. Soon, everyone was holding a cup of tea with milk and sugar and Madame Foxglove seated herself in the rocking chair that creaked quietly when she swayed.

Serena sipped and glanced at Zoicite over the rim of her cup. He was picking tufts from the carpet and ignoring the warm cup of tea in his hand. "And what about you, Zoicite? Are you okay?"

He looked up as if surprised to be spoken to. "Fine," he lied. After a hesitation, he asked, "Did Endymion really go to Cashlin?"

Serena nodded.

"He should have told me. I would have gone with him."

"You and your brothers all have wives to take care of," Serena pointed out. "He wouldn't have wanted to take you away from them."

She could see that Zoicite knew that was the truth, but nevertheless he repeated, "He should have told me."

Another long silence was broken by Amy, murmuring, "If I hadn't asked her to be part of the wedding…"

A spark ignited in Zoicite's distressed eyes, and he reached over and rubbed Amy's back. "Don't do that to yourself, love. Don't blame yourself for something that wasn't your fault."

"Zoicite's right. Beryl had already discovered the dwarfs' cottage. She would have found Raye either way."

"But maybe then Jadeite…"

Serena frowned, thinking that maybe it _had_ been a mistake for Raye to come to the castle. Maybe if she would have been poisoned at the cottage, Jadeite would have been left alone. Then a day would have come when he would find the princess in her glass coffin and awoken her, like in the fairy story. Serena felt sick to her stomach at the realization of how easily the tragedy could have been avoided. She couldn't help retracing their steps, all the decisions she had made, and wondering…

"Let's not play the game of what-ifs and past regrets," said Madame Foxglove, stirring her tea with a pudgy finger. "You have made no trespasses and Raye was blessed with your friendship, just as young Master Jadeite was blessed with loving and devoted brothers. Besides, it is not untold for tragedies to eventually become happy miracles. Give it time. Mourn and grieve and remember your loved ones, but give it time. Perhaps Lord Grimm will still be able to fix all this and the kingdom will find happiness again."

Serena's stomach constricted as she remembered her discovery of just that morning of how she had seen Beryl's evil eyes glaring out from Grimm's very own mirror. How the revered and honorable Lord Grimm was no more than a traitor. Perhaps he hadn't been responsible for the attacks on Raye and Jadeite, but even so, Serena knew that he would not be fixing anything. Silently, angrily, she drank her tea.

Across from her, Gretel pulled the hair from her mouth and yawned. The children's eyes were drooping. Setting her cup of tea down, Madame Foxglove rose to her feet. "I believe it's time for bed. It's been a rough day."

Gretel got up from Amy's lap without complaint and wrapped her fists up in the nurse's skirt, but Hansel shook his head. "I won't sleep."

"Then you will be very tired tomorrow, won't you? Come along. Don't argue."

Pouting, the boy turned and hugged Amy around her neck, then hugged Zoicite as well. Gretel left the nurse to do the same, and they each came and hugged Serena too, before following Madame Foxglove across the hall to their own rooms.

Zoicite shook his head when they had left, reaching out and holding his wife's hand. "This week…"

Serena knew his thoughts. A battle with witches, two brothers married, one brother dead, one brother on his way to death…

"How are the king and queen? And Malachite? I haven't seen them."

"As can be expected," said Amy. "Mina has been in need of consoling. She found them, you know..." Serena nodded, though she couldn't imagine how horrible it would be to stumble onto that tragic scene. "And wasn't tomorrow to be another joyous day? The world should stop in these times of mourning. For all this to happen right before that lovely Briar Rose's birthday…. If her curse befalls her while Endymion is gone…. Really, can this kingdom take much more?"

"Maybe that's what Queen Beryl wanted," Zoicite suggested, and Serena wondered if he didn't have a point. Maybe it was all part of her ultimate plan. She began to wish that she had tried harder to keep Endymion from leaving. Her thoughts drifted to him and she wondered how far away he was now, and how long it would take him to get to Cashlin. Would he take main roads or cut through fields? She was sure he had taken a horse—it would make no sense to travel on foot. She wondered if he would ride under the darkness of night and sleep during the day. If he would sleep at all. She sighed at the thought of him, steadfast and determined atop his prized steed, and wondered if he was thinking at all of her.

_I'm going to ask you to marry me again._

If he came back.

If he came back, the spell on him would be broken and his soul-bound love for Briar Rose would be reignited. Either way, Serena had lost him.

* * *

_Please review (and if you're costuming for the holiday, tell me what you're going to be)!_


	25. Castle of Thorns

Okay – another chapter before Nano has me completely and totally swamped! My novel is going well. I have about 2600 words and plan to breach 7000 over the weekend. No title yet. Anyone who is participating, please feel free to add me to your buddy list (aliblade22) or friend me on LJ and we will root for each other!

As for this story, I really want to stress to all reviewers how much I appreciate your comments. Praise encourages me to continue writing, and criticism helps me to notice mistakes I've made and places where the story could be improved. Though I may not respond to each comment, please know that if/when I decide to revise this story, EVERY SINGLE COMMENT will be given consideration. I sincerely appreciate it!

And thanks, of course, to Phantasy Star for taking time to edit.

Enjoy!

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 25: Castle of Thorns  
_Soon a brier hedge began to grow all around the castle. It surrounded  
and covered the entire castle, so that it was no longer visible, and  
the thorns clung together tightly as though they had hands.  
_from Brier Rose

The gray, ominous cloud cover was back the next morning, but the dwarfs were not. No one mentioned their disappearance. No one talked about much of anything. The servants, usually so light-footed and cheerful in their daily work, instead sulked and plodded through their tasks. Everything seemed trivial. Everyone wore black.

Serena was up early. The broken glass from her vanity mirror had been cleaned up by some sly servant while Serena had been gone the evening before and a fire had been built in her hearth, but it had died down during the night, leaving a chill in her bedroom. There was no sign of her four dedicated handmaidens, so she robotically styled her hair into her signature twin buns and ponytails and put on a black cotton dress, the only black thing she'd been given to wear. She didn't bother with shoes. She thought that she looked deathly pale and felt tired and weak. She'd tossed and turned all night.

The hallways of the castle felt eerily deserted, and the occasional ghost-like maid didn't help the feeling. Serena had no direction as she meandered through the corridors, and finally thought to peek into the dining room to see if any familiar faces were having breakfast. They were not—she believed the entire royal family to be hidden away in mourning, but a servant passing through asked Serena if she was hungry and vowed to bring her some food. The servant looked grateful for a purpose, no matter how small, and so Serena didn't argue. Besides, she'd barely eaten all the day before. Her appetite had been gone, as she thought it still was, but when the servant returned with a plate of bacon and gravy-covered biscuits, she devoured it greedily.

She considered going for a walk in the courtyards, but the gray sky warning rain made her change her mind. She thought of calling on Lita, Amy, or Mina, but knew they were probably still in bed, and even if they weren't, Serena was sure they preferred the company of their husbands to her in this dark time. Serena desperately wished that she had someone to curl up against, to hold, to be held by. For the first time since she'd arrived in Aysel, she felt without purpose.

The morning dragged on as she dragged her feet through one hallway after another. She was just considering braving the rain that hadn't yet fallen and making a trek into the Enchanted Forest to see if she couldn't stand in silent companionship with the dwarfs again, when she noticed a familiar figure coming toward her.

Briar Rose either didn't notice Serena or pretended not to as she diligently walked down the hallway, opening every door and holding a candle up, peeking her head inside, before closing the door and continuing to the next. She was dressed in a fine white gown threaded with pearls and had white rosebuds tied in her long, mint-green hair. The vision, strikingly beautiful, reinforced Serena's fantasy that the castle was filled with ghosts.

"Princess, what are you doing?" Serena asked as Briar Rose came closer.

"Looking for a spinning wheel," the princess calmly answered without bothering to turn her gaze to Serena. She pulled open another door, held the candle inside for a moment, and then closed it again, neither disappointed nor discouraged.

"What for?"

"Because today is my birthday."

"Yes, but… why are you looking for a spinning wheel on the last day when you should avoid them?"

"It is the last day that finding one will matter. I'm tired of waiting for this curse to find me, so I thought I'd have better luck searching for it."

Serena watched as the princess strolled by her and opened another door. Peering over the princess's shoulder, Serena could see that the door led to an unoccupied guestroom. Briar Rose held up her candle, casting an orange glow on the bedposts, intensifying the shadows that loomed up from the room's corners. Satisfied that there was no spinning wheel within, Briar Rose shut the door and continued on, the train of her dress shuffling along the floor. From the back, Serena could see a row of tiny lace-covered buttons running from the nape of the princess's neck to her low back and realized that the ornate dress was a wedding gown.

"Briar Rose, Alex is locked away in the dungeons and Endymion has gone to Cashlin to kill Beryl. If you prick your finger on that spinning wheel, who exactly do you think is going to wake you?"

Briar Rose paused and lilted her head toward Serena, holding the candle up so that Serena could see a whimsical smile on her lips.

"Lady Serena, my love has been wrongly accused of murder and will likely hang for it, while my betrothed has gone off to face certain death. I do not think anyone will wake me. In fact, I hope to sleep forever."

Serena watched the princess drift away, haunting the castle hallways with her candle and long white dress. She knew of only one spinning wheel in the castle—the one that Rumpelstiltskin had used to spin straw into gold only a year ago, that the princes had discovered in a game of hide and seek when they were young, that Serena had discovered by accident. Briar Rose was heading in the opposite direction from that secret room high in the tower, but at her steady and meticulous rate, Serena had no doubt that she would eventually find it.

Turning on her heel, she thought she'd better get there first.

* * *

The suit of armor that Serena had accidentally knocked over—originally showing her the entrance to the hidden staircase—had been stood up on its stand, its gauntlet and shin reattached, if crookedly. The dings and scuffs were blatantly obvious to her, but she thought a more ignorant soul would not have noticed them without closer attention. She wondered if Endymion had been the one to replace the armor in order to once again hide the entrance to the small tower behind its protective blue curtain. Had he realized, at the time, that this was likely the spinning wheel that would eventually bring the curse of sleep to his betrothed?

She slipped behind the armor and pulled the curtain back to reveal the open doorway and dark stairwell. She soon wished that she'd thought to grab a lantern for her ascent. The few tiny windows would hardly have lit the tower on a sunny day, much less one so gray and gloomy. She climbed to the top room and pushed open the plain wooden door and found the round room lighter than the stairwell, though still cold.

There was an empty plate on the floor and she realized it was the one she had brought to Endymion when he'd been polishing his sword. He'd been so angry with her, with all of them, for choosing to go on the crazy witch hunt to rescue Amy, that he'd refused to join them for dinner, so she'd brought nourishment to him. He'd said that he wasn't hungry, but by the looks of the empty plate, he must have lied. That, or the rats had gotten it.

A polishing rag was draped over the spokes of the spinning wheel and two forgotten daggers lay in a nearby pile of straw. Serena thought that Endymion must have been very distracted to leave his weapons lying so carelessly around, but maybe he'd thought that there was simply no threat to them in the secret room.

Serena sighed. The last time she'd been in this room, she had stood right where she was and looked into his intense blue eyes and told him that he was a coward, because he was afraid of love.

How wrong she had been.

He was the one who had claimed love for her. He was the one who had asked for her hand in marriage.

And she was the one who was running away from him.

But it was only because she knew he didn't mean it. He _thought _he meant it, of course, but it was only a fantasy created by a spell. His true love was Briar Rose. Andrew had seen their soul connection when they were only children. Trista, the singing harp that could not lie, had confirmed it. There could be no mistaking fate. The prince and his betrothed should be lovers, should live happily ever after.

This silly fancy of Endymion's was nothing more than a cruel trick, meant to dissuade him from his true desire, his only chance for happiness.

And that all would have been fine, if only Serena hadn't felt it too.

She sighed and sat down at the spinning wheel, pushing the wheel with her fingers and listening to it whir quietly in the otherwise silent room. The vibrations loosened the polishing rag and it slipped off the bars to the floor. Serena stopped the wheel and pulled bits of straw and gold from the spokes.

_Have you ever felt it?_ he'd asked. _This passionate romance you believe so strongly in?_

She'd told him that she knew what love was, but she now knew that at the time it had been a lie.

Not anymore.

She slid her hand serenely across the wood of the wheel, tracing the curves and details of the spokes, then languidly moving up over the empty bobbin and toward the needle, its silver point glinting against the wood. She pressed her thumb along its skinny shaft, the edge leaving a groove in her skin, and wondered how much pressure one would need to put onto the unforgiving tip to draw blood, to enact a sixteen-year-old curse.

There were footsteps on the stairs, fast and heavy.

Serena gasped, jumping up from the wheel and wondering what she would say if it was Briar Rose, how she would talk the princess out of what she had planned, if it would make any difference at all.

She had not bothered to close the little wooden door. The footsteps came closer, until a shadow appeared around the corner, and Serena gasped, taking a step back—but her heel hit the base of the wheel.

Lord Grimm stepped onto the landing, breathing hard, his face flushed. He froze when he saw her, his dark eyes going wide. One hand came up to grasp at the tunic material over his chest, as if to calm his old heart. The other hand went to the door's frame to steady himself.

"You!" they both screamed.

Grimm recovered first and pointed one crooked finger at her. "You should not be here!" he growled.

"Why? So no one will be here to stop you in your evil plan?"

The man looked like he wanted to come toward her, but he glanced hesitantly at the spinning wheel and didn't move. "Leave. You must leave."

"Were you coming to make sure that everything was prepared for the princess? To make sure nothing would stop her from finding the spinning wheel and completing the curse that you and Beryl gave her?"

Grimm gawked.

"That's right," Serena continued. "Andrew told me that you were the one to change the curse from death to sleep. But did you really? Or did you ensure that she would die after all? That there would be no saving her?"

"What are you talking about?" he hissed, before again commanding, "Get away from there!"

"You didn't count on me putting a kink in your plan, did you?"

Grimm's eyes were heated and frightened as they continuously shifted between Serena and the spinning wheel. Finally, he seemed to make up his mind and moved forward to grab her wrist, but Serena dodged away from him and snatched up one of the daggers that had been left in the straw.

"Stay away from me!" she yelled, brandishing the knife toward him. Grimm took a startled step back.

"What are you doing, you stupid child? Put that down! Have you lost your mind?"

"Don't try to pull that innocence trick on me. I know all about you! Everyone else in this kingdom may be blinded by your supposed good deeds and protection of this world, but not me! I know you're in league with Beryl. I know you tried to kill Raye the other night, maybe even helped Alex kill her yesterday, and I know you're trying to kill Briar Rose now, and I'm not going to allow it!"

Grimm's jaw went slack. "What?" he sputtered. "What makes you—? What are you—? Put that down and stop being ridiculous!"

"Do you really think I'm that stupid?"

"At the moment?" Grimm screamed, his wrinkled cheeks burning with anger. "Whatever gave you the idea that I was working with that witch?"

"Oh, drop the act," said Serena, scowling. "It's pretty obvious to someone who isn't biased in your favor like you've brainwashed everyone here to be. Why else would you be prowling around Raye's room, only moments before she was attacked? And why would you tell everyone that your brother was dead when he wasn't? That's right—I know he's alive; he was the one who sent me here! Besides, I _saw_ Beryl in your very own mirror, the first day that I arrived here. I saw her! I know the truth and I'm not going to let you hurt anyone else!"

Grimm's shoulders slackened. With a groan, he closed his eyes and drew one hand slowly down his face. "Ignorant thing," he muttered to himself, before opening his eyes and looking at her with sympathy. He inhaled a long breath. "Beryl was in my mirror because I have been watching her for years, trying to pinpoint her next target, her next move," he explained, slowly as if to a child. "There were once five magic mirrors, Serena. One is in Beryl's castle, the same that she uses to watch, and sometimes attack, her enemies. It was stolen from my peer and friend, the lady called Mother Goose, many years ago, by a great ancestor of Beryl. It was then passed through the generations, each heir becoming stronger with the knowledge that the mirror brought them, and more corrupted by their vanity and believed superiority. Beryl inherited it at a very young age and has grown into the wickedest woman who ever lived, and for the first time, one of the evil holder's of the magic mirror is in a position of power and nothing can stop her—except me, which is what I've been trying to do."

Serena's jaw flexed as she listened and searched his story for falsities.

"One of the magic mirrors is the one that you saw in my cabin," he continued. "Two were destroyed, the two that had belonged to Charles and Hans, shortly after they fell ill."

"Lords Perrault and Anderson," Serena mused, drawn in by Grimm's tale, but she did not lower the knife.

"Yes. We were afraid that with their deaths, the mirrors would be vulnerable to theft as well and would fall into the hands of more evil.

"The fifth mirror went with Jacob, my brother, when he left. The two mirrors kept by Beryl and myself are the only two left in this world."

"And this is supposed to convince me to trust you… how?"

The man drew his brow down in a glare. "The mirrors are connected by the same magic. Yes, they can look through the magic of any mirror in existence, anything that acts as a reflective surface at all, but the less clear the receptacle is, the less clear the image will be, and even good, normal mirrors can be difficult to see through and take a person of immense talent to get a vision at all, much less hold it for long periods of time. Looking through another magic mirror, on the other hand, is always clear. Therefore, while it is difficult for Beryl to see into the mirrors of, say, a plain old vanity, it is very easy for me to see into her magic mirror and watch everything she says to it and does with it. It is my way of keeping an eye on her, so that when she is ready to strike, I will be aware of it, and hopefully able to stop it.

"That is why I was here when she tried to kill Raye with the corset. I'd seen her preparing for it in the mirror."

"But if you can see into her mirror, can't she see into yours?"

"Of course she can! But what does that matter? She knows right where to find me if she ever wanted to. I have nothing to hide from her and she knows it." His eyes darkened. "Except you. If she'd seen you that first day that you arrived it would have been disastrous. The fact that she saw you in the pond is bad enough. Thankfully, the image on the reflective surface of a murky pond is nearly impossible to make out and we can only hope she believed you to be Princess Snow White. With any luck, she still doesn't know that you're here."

Serena's arm was starting to hurt from holding the knife's weight. Stepping back, she slowly withdrew it. The man hardly looked threatening, standing there crooked and old and weary. "So that's why you were so mean to me? Why you wouldn't let me inside? Because you didn't want Beryl to know I was here?"

He nodded.

"But that doesn't explain why you told everyone that your brother was dead, or why he went back to my world when this one was in so much danger."

Grimm scoffed as if the answer should have been obvious. "He went back so that the fifth mirror would be safe should anything happen to mine. And I told everyone he was dead so that everyone would believe it—including Beryl. She believes that I am the last storyteller. If anything happens to me, Jacob will still be able to return and destroy her, if she is not too strong for him. He may be Aysel's last hope."

Serena's heart was beating quickly as she digested all he had told her. She tried to think of other things he couldn't explain away, other evil deeds he had no alibi for, but she could think of nothing.

"So… you're not working for Beryl?"

"Of course not! Now put that down, we must get out of here at once! No, on second thought, hold onto it. You may need it."

"Why? What's going on?"

Grimm's expression looked drawn and full of nerves. "She is coming," he whispered.

Serena's breath caught. "Here?"

A flash of lightning lit the room, immediately followed by a rumble of thunder that shook the tower walls. When the castle stopped trembling, Serena ran to a window, hearing the splintering of wood and crumbling of stone all around her. She looked down onto the red roofs of the city just as a thick, eerie fog began to crawl through streets and alleys. Dark like smoke, it filled up every inch of the town, flooding up over the roofs and walls until only the uppermost chimneys and weathervanes were visible above the haze.

"The fog…" Grimm muttered beside Serena.

"What does it mean?" she breathed. This was unlike any fog she'd ever seen.

"It speaks of death."

She glanced up at him, and Mina's story of the storytellers came back to her—the fog that lasted for twelve days, always ending with the death of one of the storytellers. Gulping, she clutched the windowsill and looked back to the city. Already the fog had lolled over the walls and was invading the wheat fields that stretched to the horizon.

"Could Beryl summon such a thing?"

"No, she does not have the power—and the fog was haunting us long before Beryl was even a thought in this world. If anything, I have summoned this fog."

Serena's heart clamped and she instinctively stepped away from Grimm, her hand tightening around the dagger's handle again.

"Do not misunderstand," Grimm added hastily. "My brethren and I wove the coming of the fog into the fabric of this world when it was first created. It was to be a warning sign, announcing when the death of one of us was near so that we could take certain precautions."

Serena shook her head. "And the sickness that killed the others?"

"Just a sickness," Grimm murmured, an undertone of irony in his voice. "Homesickness, perhaps."

Serena felt a jolt beneath her feet and yelped, bracing herself against one wall. Her hand reached for the windowsill again as the tower began to shake. Grimm leaned out and looked down toward the garden below.

"But this," he whispered through dry lips, "this, Beryl could summon."

Trembling, Serena leaned forward again, her eyes scanning the stone walls of the tower, and watched as the marble pathways of the garden began to break apart. The marbles splintered, the trees uprooted, and winding, thorny vines began to grow up from the ground. They wound their way over the gates and up the castle walls. They wrapped around the garden figurines. They shattered the colored glass of the windows, all the while climbing upward. Some vines were tiny and delicate, others the width of tree trunks. Then—it began to rain, the droplets falling into the thick fog and disturbing it into a swirling, stormy layer of wisps and smoke—but it did not dissipate. The rain fell on the creeping vines, slicking the stems, dripping from their sharp thorns. The ground gave way as more briars came forth, covering the castle until hardly a stone could be seen through their foliage.

Serena pulled back, heart thudding, as the first of the vines reached the tower window. It snaked inside, winding up toward the wooden rafters. Within moments more had joined it, some crawling past the window on their way to the tower's roof, others creeping inside. They draped the walls, knotted around each other. Their thorns scraped at the stone. When they reached the wooden door they tied around it, pulling it partly off its hinges, before continuing down the walls of the stairwell.

"What's going on?" Serena cried, backing toward the spinning wheel at the center of the room. Grimm stopped her with a hand on her upper arm. She looked up at him. His eyes were full of fear.

"She's here."

Serena's heart skipped.

"Beryl has arrived."

Shaking her head, Serena pulled her arm away from him. "But Queen Luna! Mina… everyone! We have to find them!" She took off running down the stairs, trying to ignore the vines that reached for her, shuddering each time a thorn snagged her hair. She was quicker than them, though, and soon was down the stairs and bursting through the blue corner to the windowless weapon's room where no vines had yet penetrated—but she knew it wouldn't be long.

"No! You must not go out there! You're in immense danger!" she heard Grimm yelling behind her.

"We're all in immense danger! That witch could kill the entire castle!" she screamed back at him. Pulling the door open, she began running as fast as she could toward the castle's throne room.

The castle was filled with screams and servants running, terrified, through the halls. Serena's bare feet thudded against the carpets, her black taffeta skirt billowed behind her as she ran. Maids and servants, already shaken from the intruding vines, scurried out of her way.

When she reached the hallway that paralleled the enormous throne room, she stopped to catch her breath and slipped through a curtain into a small servant's hall—passages that were hidden by doors and curtains so that servants could perform their duties without being seen. Serena hurried along the hall, listening for voices and footsteps. The passage appeared to be deserted and at first she could hear nothing but her own labored breathing, but soon muffled voices became apparent from the other side of the stone wall and she slowed her steps to a walk, and then a trembling creep. The voice that reached her was not familiar and she strained to make out words.

"Bring me the huntsman," commanded a woman whose tone was full of calm, confidence, and disdain. Serena gulped and bunched up her skirt to keep it from making noise on the stone floor.

"Yes, Your Majesty," murmured a deep, disenchanted voice that Serena was sure she recognized, but couldn't place. She tried to press her ear to the curtain without disturbing it but found that it didn't help. She needed to see inside the throne room, but dared not pull the curtain back and risk exposing herself. There were footsteps leaving the room. They had just begun to fade away into the main hall before the woman—who could only have been Queen Beryl—spoke again.

"It has been a long time since last I had the pleasure of your company, neighboring rulers. About sixteen years to be exact, if my memory serves me. Luna, Your _Highness,_ you look… well, _older. _I sincerely hope that the next sixteen years will be kinder, though I admit to having few expectations myself. And who are these two young beauties? I don't recall any daughters in the family lineage before. Could it be that the rumors of fruitful marriages have not been exaggerated? I'm so hurt at not being invited to join in the festivities. Surely, the invitations were lost?" The saccharin voice dripped with sarcasm.

Serena's mind whirled. How had Beryl invaded so quickly, so completely? Aysel had not even the chance to put up a fight.

Anxious to see who else being addressed by the evil queen, Serena struggled to inhale and inched her fingers foreword to a heavy curtain. She drew it back just far enough to peer through a tiny gap, grateful that the material was heavy and hardly rippled at her touch.

A scarce few of the throne room's surrounding wall sconces had been lit—or rather, the majority of them had been smothered at the queen's arrival—filling the room with shadow. The curtained doorway where Serena stood was slightly behind and to the right of the duel thrones. All she could see of Queen Beryl, seated on Luna's throne, was a lock of flaming red hair and a pale hand with willowy fingers and long, darkly-painted nails. Her dress's sleeve, a rich purple, draped over the throne in billowing folds that hung nearly to the carpeted platform below.

A small crowd was gathered before the queen and Serena scanned their faces, noting burly men in leather and chain mail—the queen's guards—standing with arms crossed and eyes shifting around the room. Serena shrank back whenever a pair of keen eyes would glance her way, but none seemed to acknowledge the tiny gap in the curtains.

Of the prisoners, all of whom had been forced to kneel before the new queen with bound wrists, Serena could see some maids and servants trembling with bowed heads. The royal family, on the other hand, knelt with straight backs and level chins, eyes fearlessly meeting the queen's gaze. King Artemis and Queen Luna both looked livid and ignorant of Beryl's taunts. The three remaining princes, Malachite, Nephlite, and Zoicite, were each expressionless and stoic, and each had one guard strategically stationed behind him with a sword to his throat. Serena couldn't help feeling relieved that Endymion had gone on his suicidal crusade, otherwise he surely would have been captured with the rest of his family.

In front of the crowd knelt Lita and Amy, and Serena was proud to see that they, too, had an aura of rebellion about them. Even shy, quiet Amy looked unwilling to be intimidated by the witch.

Lastly, standing beside the captured princesses was Andrew, with Hota perched on his shoulder. They both had their arms folded, unchained, as they watched the queen. Hope rose up in Serena. Certainly the two were already plotting a way to rescue the royal family, and Seiya—who she could not spot among the crowd—could be instrumental in a rebellion against the evil queen if he was not yet discovered.

"And who are we missing?" Queen Beryl drawled, animatedly counting out the prisoners before her with a pointed nail. "I believe we should have one more wife here, for the oldest? The one with the uncanny straw-spinning talent?"

"Princess Mina and her infant child could not be found, Your Highness. We're still searching for them," said one of the soldiers, purple bands on his shoulders denoting him as a high-ranking officer.

"Well, I imagine her husband must have some idea where she's gotten off to, wouldn't you think? Why don't you take him down to the torture chambers and see if that won't speed up the process?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"And if my memory serves me well, there were five princes before, weren't there? Oh, but of course, one was so recently dispatched by my loyal minion. What a _tragedy._" She laughed heartily at a joke that darkened the expressions of the royalty before her. "But what of the fifth, the youngest? The young man with the soul tie to the princess of Obelia?"

"He could also not be found, Your Highness," said the soldier.

"Then look _harder,_" the queen commanded, her soft, lulling voice drastically sharpening.

"Your Majesty."

Serena frowned, unable to see who had spoken, though sure she recognized the ladylike voice.

"I'm afraid the youngest prince left the castle late last night," the voice continued. "He was heading to Cashlin with the intent to kill you and avenge the death of Prince Jadeite."

Then Serena's eyes fell on the person who had spoken and she reeled back in shock.

It was Hota, perched on Andrew's shoulder, who had spoken.

Serena's head spun. What purpose could Hota possibly have for sharing this information with the queen? What could she be thinking?

"Endymion has _left?_" Beryl screeched, her fist clenching. "Why didn't you try to stop him?"

Andrew cleared his throat and bowed his head respectfully, not a hint of disdain in his expression as he approached the queen's throne. "Your Ladyship, I assure you we did all in our power to ensure that the entire royal family would be present for your arrival, but it's been a very trying few days for us and we were met with an unexpected situation on the part of Prince Endymion."

Serena could not still her quaking heart. Andrew and Hota had been working to ensure the royal family was present? How? _Why?_

"What unexpected situation?" the queen roared.

"Well," Andrew replied, folding his hands together, "judging from the soul bond we originally noted between Endymion and the cursed princess Briar Rose, I thought for sure that the bond would have been strengthened and impenetrable at this age, so we took cares that Briar Rose was brought to the castle so that she and Endymion could form a romance prior to the onslaught of her curse, making the prince unwilling to leave her side on this most precarious of days."

"And how did your carefully constructed plot go awry?" Beryl seethed.

Andrew hesitated for only a moment before continuing. "It appears that the soul bond between the prince and princess that was so clear and evident in their youth is now… gone."

"Gone," the queen deadpanned, clutching the arm of her throne.

"Yes, Your Majesty. Their subsequent meetings have been rather lacking in passion or romance. In fact, they both seem to have developed romantic interests in other, unrelated parties."

"I don't care who they've developed romantic interest in!" Beryl cried. "I do not need to remind you that Endymion is known to be the strongest and quickest of his brothers, and the largest threat to my place as queen. He is to be found and brought before me_immediately, _or it will be your head paying the price Is that understood?"

Andrew bowed, his expression ever complacent.

"Without question, Your Majesty."

* * *

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	26. Sleep

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The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 26: Sleep  
_Scarcely had she touched the spindle when the magic decree was fulfilled  
and she pricked her finger on it and fell into a deep sleep._  
from Brier Rose

Beryl's anger was still seething when quick footsteps were heard at the other end of the throne room. Serena shifted to see Seiya, his head high, unchained like the other guardians. Her stomach sank, feeling an immense weight of betrayal pushing down on her. Behind the Guardian of Tragedy came two more guards dragging a chained and dirty Alex between them.

"The huntsman, Your Highness," Seiya drawled and Serena realized that it was he who had first spoken when the queen had ordered for Alex to be brought to her.

"Bring him closer."

Alex was led to the platform and the queen stood as if to greet him. Serena could now see her auburn hair falling in grand curls past her waist, and how the purple silk of her dress perfectly hung on every graceful curve.

"Ah, my most promising attendant," the queen purred, cupping Alex's chin with her long fingers. "I have missed you painfully in the long years that we've been parted. I have been unable to find any man, young or old, that comes close to having your natural grace with a sword, aim with a bow, or proficiency with a knife. You had _such_ potential, the favorite of all my pupils."

She tenderly rubbed her thumb along his cheek, before drawing her hand away and backhanding him across the face. Alex flinched, but the guards held him in place.

"Until you met that tramp of a stepdaughter, of course," Beryl fumed. "Honestly, my darling Alex, it was such a _simple_ task I'd beseeched you with. Take the girl into the woods, kill her, and bring me her heart. Tell me, how does one so highly recommended as yourself fail at such an easy mission? Did the wretched girl cry and plead and beg, softening your well-hardened heart with those big eyes of hers? Or did she offer you free reign on that newly developed body of hers in return for her life?"

Alex narrowed his steely blue eyes. "She was only a child," he replied in disgust, earning himself another resounding slap across the face.

"Do not bestow her with innocence she does not deserve. She was well aware of her charms! You would have served this world better by ridding it of that unnatural beauty she was cursed with."

"I would have served your vanity better. She meant no harm, to you or anyone else, and you know that."

Beryl raised her hand again at his insolence, but paused when met with his fearless, unflinching gaze. Slowly, calmly, she lowered her hand to her side and sat gingerly back on her throne. "No matter," she said, her tone once again enchanting. "Not every man is so easily swayed by a pretty face. My much more loyal servant was finally able to finish the job you could not. After all, what princess would ever expect one of the kingdom's very own guardians, innocently feeding apples to the horses on a cold, gray morning?" She chuckled gleefully with a gesture in Seiya's direction. "And he was even able to dispatch of that annoying prince who otherwise could have revived her—_so they say._ And you, my dearest hunter, were so easy to frame for it all. A stolen sword and a few well-placed rumors was all it took to have the entire kingdom turned against you. I suppose I ought to thank you properly for playing the role of scapegoat with such talent and ease."

Her cackling filled the room and Serena slumped against the frame of the curtained doorway, head swimming. So Alex was the huntsman who had rescued Raye from her stepmother years before and then fled to safety in the kingdom of Obelia. He was innocent, he'd been framed, and by none other than Seiya and the other guardians, whom Serena had been so sure were allies. Whom she'd never doubted, never questioned or suspected. Whom she'd followed blindly, whom had been the true spies, the true traitors of Aysel.

She couldn't help going over every conversation she'd had with Seiya, Andrew, and Hota, knowing now that they'd been planning on betraying the royal family of Aysel from the beginning. Had she helped them unknowingly? Had all she'd done to try and fix the ruined fairy tales only made things worse? Perhaps if she hadn't assisted Nephlite and Zoicite in finding their true loves, Lita and Amy would be free from Beryl's clutches now. But what of the other mundane tasks they'd set out for her? Rescuing Little Red Riding Hood from the wolf? Keeping Bluebeard's wife from being killed by the murderous merchant? Telling Rini about the pea test so she could marry Elios Penelope? Had they just been silly tasks to keep her out of the castle as much as possible and prevent her from discovering the guardian's secret? Or had they also, in some random way, set the path for Queen Beryl's ambush on the kingdom?

Serena was shaking with anger. Never had she felt so dirty, so stupid, so used. Silently, she swore that if it was in her power to set things straight, she would. But she hadn't any idea what to do. If only she had more allies who were not in the queen's clutches. If only she could free the princes and everyone else. If only Endymion were there to help.

"And what of your pretty little princess, the one you've been employed in the protection of since our last meeting? Don't tell me that she's fled the castle along with her betrothed?"

"Not to our knowledge," Andrew answered for the huntsman. "But Briar Rose was not in her guest quarters this morning. Guards are still searching for her, as well as for Princess Mina."

"I'd expected you to keep a very close eye on her, Andrew," Beryl pressed in a forbidding tone. "You'd better find her soon, and there'd better be a spinning wheel nearby with a very sharp needle."

Andrew bowed. "I assure you the curse will be fulfilled before sundown, Your Highness. The princess has suffered from emotional trauma the past couple of days. I don't expect she would have gone far."

"Trauma?"

"Romantic rejection, Your Highness, on more than one account. Difficult enough for most girls, but devastating for one who has prided herself on exceptional beauty, goodness, and grace."

"Rejection from Endymion?"

"Yes, My Queen."

"And what other account?"

"Your very prized hunter himself," Andrew said, gesturing toward Alex who wore a stony expression. "As I said, both Endymion and Briar Rose fancied themselves in love with someone else. Briar Rose had developed a fancy for her personal guard."

Beryl turned her attention to the kneeling huntsman and raised her brow in amusement. "Is that so?" she drawled, swirling one fingernail along the arm of her chair. "And I suppose that her feelings went unreciprocated due to his previous attachment to my stepdaughter?"

"Well… that's what Briar Rose believed. I wrote a letter in Alex's name proclaiming his affection for Snow White. Of course I'd hoped that it would end her attachment to him and enforce a love affair with Endymion, which was unsuccessful in itself, and yet…"

Andrew was cut off by Beryl's shrill laughter cutting through the throne room. "_You_ wrote her a letter? My darling underling, how you delight me so." Clapping her hands together, she leaned forward, smiling mirthfully at Alex's glare. "What makes it all so delicious is the expression on _your_ face. Andrew's letter was quite unfounded, wasn't it? You've been accused of so much lately and I can see now that this is by far the worst. To think! You, a lowly foreign hunter, in love with Princess Briar Rose! And she with you! Oh, Andrew, you have done well. You have done very well."

Andrew modestly nodded his head.

"Now I only need to find the little wretch and make one difficult decision: let her curse befall her and leave her to eternal nightmares, or bring her here and kill her illicit lover before her very eyes?" She cackled. "And then all three kingdoms will finally be mine, and I will be known as the most beautiful queen there ever was."

"Not only queen, Your Majesty," added Hota. "But empress."

"Yes, of course." Beryl's lips curled. "And I have not forgotten my promise to my three faithful guardians. Very soon, your hard work will be rewarded. Very soon…. Where is my mirror? Bring it to me."

"It is here, Your Highness." A guard answered. He and a companion stepped forward carrying a medium-sized chest between them.

"Good," said the queen, standing from her throne and approaching the chest in languid steps. "Open it."

The guards did as they were told and the queen reached inside with giddy fingertips. "It will look so lovely in my new castle, don't you think, Queen Luna? Where do you think I should put it?"

Serena gulped, mesmerized, as Beryl pulled a square, wood-framed mirror from the trunk. The wood was weathered and splitting, the glass covered in dirt. It looked exactly like the small mirror that hung on Grimm's wall, in which Serena had first seen Beryl's red-gold eyes. Her breath caught to see them reflected again as Beryl's face appeared in the dark surface, her features ghostly and enchantingly beautiful, a smile on her crimson lips.

"Yes, it will look lovely, indeed. Seiya, I have a new mission for you."

"Your Highness."

"Bring me the last remaining magic mirror."

Seiya quirked an eyebrow. "Lord Grimm's mirror?"

"Yes, of course!" Beryl snapped. "And you are no longer to refer to him as _Lord._ In fact, why don't you bring the lunatic to me as well? I have a few things I'd like to speak with him about. Well, what are you waiting for? Go!"

Though he looked to harbor the slightest bit of uncertainty, Seiya bowed and left the room.

"Andrew, you are to find me Princesses Mina and Briar Rose. Hota, find Endymion. Kill him if you must."

"There is one other, Your Highness," Andrew interrupted.

Beryl paused, her eyes flashing. "One other?"

"Yes. She is called the Chosen One."

Serena's heart leapt.

"That girl from Grimm's world? What of her? You told me she did not pose a threat."

"And she doesn't," assured Hota. "But nevertheless, she has on occasion exemplified a sort of courage and loyalty that could upset some of your plans, and she'll surely try to free the prisoners and prevent… well, everything it is we're trying to do."

"Truth be known, she has been rather useful to us to this point," Andrew pointed out. "As you well know, she assisted in finding the hideout of Snow White and luring her to this castle. She was primarily responsible for Prince Zoicite's battle with Zoe the Witch and he would have stayed blinded if it had not been for Amy. And of course, she made it so very simple to frame Alex for the murders of Snow White and Jadeite—almost as if she'd planned it herself. I must confess that I was disappointed in her handling of the betrothal of Endymion and Briar Rose, but in all other manners she has played right into our plot, quite perfectly."

Hota nodded. "The child is almost as dramatic as I am."

"Fine," Beryl said, waving a hand in disinterest, "bring her to me as well."

Hota and Andrew bowed and left the room, leaving the queen to smile whimsically at her reflection. "Guards," she added as an afterthought, "take our captives to the dungeons. Make them uncomfortable. And for Grimm's sake, cut their hair." Her twinkling eyes shifted to Luna's and Lita's full, wavy locks. "I won't have any one else challenging my title of Fairest."

Serena watched with dread as Beryl's captives were pulled to their feet and led away toward the dungeons. They all tried their best to look brave and defiant, but there was no mistaking the fear in their eyes. Serena knew that she had to find and warn those who hadn't yet been capture—Mina, Briar Rose, Lord Grimm—but she didn't know where to begin looking for them and knew that her chances of finding them before one of Beryl's guards were minimal at best. And she also needed a way to save the others from the dungeons, but it seemed more impossible still.

Running and hiding herself, which seemed the most logical course of action, seemed equally ridiculous. She'd helped Beryl, ignorantly. She'd bent to the guardians' whims, done as she was told, and helped bring this destruction down on Aysel.

Raye and Jadeite were dead. So many were imprisoned. And she was partly to blame.

She had to set things right.

But determination was a far cry from skill. What she had of one she was sorely lacking in another.

"Mirror," Beryl purred, stroking the dirty glass with her knuckle. "Snow White is dead, and soon so shall be Briar Rose. And I will be Queen of all Kingdoms." The mirror shimmered in response, momentarily distorting the queen's pale reflection. "Show me, Mirror of the Tellers, who then will be fairest of them all."

The glass darkened and distorted. Serena watched, entranced, and felt that she was again looking into the well near the dwarfs' cottage. The queen's shadowy reflection was outlined in a thin rim of silver, before vanishing altogether in the fluid depths of the mirror. The shadows dispersed, revealing a dark hallway, lined on one side with stones and low-burning candle scones, on the other a royal blue curtain. A dark shape beside the drapes came into focus as the candles' flames cast light onto long golden hair and a floor-sweeping black dress. The girl had both hands wrapped firmly around the edge of the curtain, her blue eyes peering past it. The small opening cast a sliver of light down her otherwise shadowed face.

Serena gasped and clasped a hand over her mouth. Her likeness in the mirror did the same.

"Who—?" Beryl screamed, then recognized the blue drapes in the mirror and instantly sent her wild eyes darting around the room. "She's in here!"

"Over there!" a guard bellowed, noticing the ripples in the curtain as Serena let it go.

She turned and sprinted; the footsteps of the guards weren't long in following her. Her mind reeled with the impossibility, the absurdity—the terror of being caught. Afraid to turn out into the main hallways of the castle, she tore down the hidden servants' halls on bare feet, her heavy skirt billowing behind her. With every turn she took she heard the guards catching up. She couldn't stop. Couldn't slow. Couldn't look back.

But she had nowhere to go.

Every passage looked the same. More stone walls closing in on her. More flickering sconces filling the corridors with shadows. Then, ahead, she saw movement and slowed only for a moment before realizing it was not a person that was coming her way, but a wall of snakelike vines spreading like a plague through the halls. The thorns that had claimed the castle had reached this far into its depths and showed no sign of relenting. Serena cried out and took the first turn she saw, barreling ever deeper into the heart of the castle. The guards, the queen, the thorns, all relentless.

A hand grabbed her wrist.

Swallowing a scream, Serena whirled around, prepared to fight.

"Serena!" Mina cried breathlessly, pulling Serena into a storage room and shutting the door behind her.

"Mina!"

The princess clapped a hand firmly over Serena's mouth and stood listening at the door. Serena offered no resistance, panting for breath and holding a hand to her cramping side. They heard startled voices down the hall as the guards encountered the briars, then the shouting of orders. A moment later footsteps came crashing down the hallway. Serena squeezed her eyes shut as they came closer, the force of their stampede making the floor vibrate beneath her.

But then they passed by and the sounds echoed away down the hall.

Mina took her hand away and Serena collapsed to the floor, shaking.

"They'll be back," warned the princess. "We can't stay here."

"But where can we go? Beryl's guards are searching the entire castle and those thorns—"

"We're going to leave the castle," answered Mina. "We'll have to go through the thorns, so take this." She reached behind her and grabbed a short sword, passing it to Serena. Serena took it without question, though her face betrayed her surprise. She noticed a scabbard on Mina's hip. The princess then bent down and reached into the shadows, emerging with a large bundle in her arms—her quietly sleeping baby girl. "Once we're out of the castle, you're going to take Cytherea to Lord Grimm, tell him what's happened and get him to come help us."

"Me? What are you—?"

"I'm going to rescue my husband."

It was clear that Mina had already set her resolve. Serena shook her head and forced herself to stand. "Mina, Lord Grimm is already here, in the castle."

Mina's jaw dropped and it was a mixture of disbelief and hope that swept over her face. "Here? You're sure?"

"Yes, I was with him earlier, just before Beryl. . . . Unless he's since escaped, but he was here."

Mina clutched her daughter to her chest. "Then he must already be working to save us. He'll make everything right."

The churning returned in Serena's stomach and she leaned her head against the door. She didn't think they should rely on Grimm to be their savior, but she couldn't bear to say it.

"Mina, you have to get out of here. Both of you. I'll stay and find Grimm and we'll rescue Malachite and the others."

It looked as though Mina would question Serena's promise. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I am the Chosen One, Mina. This is my duty."

The battle on Mina's face was clear, but she slowly conceded, fear overcoming her expression. "There's an exit behind the kitchens. It doesn't get used very often and it isn't far from the west gate. I'm sure the thorns have already taken over the gardens but I think I can get us through. I'll get Cytherea somewhere safe and then see if I can find someone to help."

"Be careful."

Mina forced a smile and shifted Cytherea to one arm before squeezing Serena's hand. "Serena, I'm so glad you came to save us."

The confidence Mina bestowed sent guilt tearing through Serena's nerves. She was grateful the princess had no idea how much trouble Serena had caused.

"We better go before they come back."

"You'll be able to find your way?"

"I think so," Serena said, slowly opening the door and peering into the softly-glowing hallway. "It's clear. Let's go."

"I'm going this way." Mina drew her sword and gestured to the right. With her eyes still adjusting to the light, Serena could see nothing but a hallway that disappeared into darkness.

"Good luck," she whispered, attempting the most courageous smile she could and gripping her own sword.

The princess nodded. "We'll be together again soon," she returned warmly, before slipping down the hallway. Dressed all in black, she soon melted into the shadows. Serena hoped she would be as invisible as she darted the other way.

Afraid to make noise, she crept along the servant hallways, breathing as quietly as she could and straining to hear any footsteps or voices, though the castle was eerily silent. She found that fewer and fewer corridors were free from the intruding vines. She tried to pick her way toward the northeastern areas of the castle, where she had last seen Lord Grimm, without running into the thorns, but when she came to a fork in which the briars could be seen twisting and writhing in every direction she realized that such a fate was unavoidable. She hoped that at least the queen's guards wouldn't be apt to follow her in.

She took a moment to curse the morning's naïve decision to leave her room without shoes or slippers, then raised the sword and plunged into the branches.

The vines swung from the ceiling, grabbing and clawing at her hair as she edged past. Tendrils whipped across her ankles, tearing the lining of her dress and leaving scratches on her calves. As she slashed the sword through the most robust of branches, she was relieved to see others slink away from her, shriveling and clinging tight to the stone walls. The hallway became darker as she proceeded, the vines having extinguished most of the sconces that lined the walls, but passing the occasional briar-covered window let through streaks of gray light. Branches crunched beneath Serena's feet and she flinched at each one, knowing that she was leaving a trail of blood where she stepped. There was the constant sound of leaves brushing leaves; vines snaking and creaking against the stone; her dress shuffling and snagging; her shallow breathing.

With a grunt, she chopped through another large branch barring her path and stepped over the fallen limb, panting at the exertion from swinging the cumbersome weapon. Looking ahead, she could see the outline of a door hidden behind a layer of creepers and knew that she couldn't go on much farther in the infested hallway. Though she knew that there was no area of the castle that was completely safe from the vines, she hoped that being back in the main passages of the castle would at least allow her breathing room and she would be able to move at a quicker pace.

If there weren't any guards, that was.

Reinvigorated, Serena braced herself and pushed forward, chopping at the vines with renewed vigor. It took her a moment to cut away the brambles that enclosed the door but it swung open easily once they were gone. On the other side was a wall of thorny vines that instantly began slithering in toward her. Serena wasted no time in cutting them down and rushing into the hallway. There was no life in sight, save the thriving plants. Nevertheless, the view through a shattered window allowed Serena to orient herself and she knew she was close to where she had last seen Grimm, though she had no idea where he could have gone since.

Another sinking feeling. The eerie brambles, the forlorn castle, that evil witch having power over so many good people all made Serena feel sick with desperation. Inadequate. Alone.

But then her eye caught on a door not far off. It was open, which she knew was strange in itself, and it took her a moment to determine what was even more odd about the door. She kicked at a branch as she approached it, trying to place the feeling that something was very unusual about the door, hanging innocently open among the vines.

And then she knew as a bramble began to wind its way around the door frame. This door was not completely covered in vines as everything else was, and many of the branches beside it looked recently severed.

It had not been open for long.

Gulping, Serena tightened her hold on the sword and crept inside, hoping beyond hope that it was Lord Grimm who had cut the branches away.

Serena paused when she found herself in the familiar weapons room, the same in which she had knocked over the suit of armor so many days before. The weapons room with the hidden doorway, the secret tower.

The brambles were quieter here, having staked their territory among the shields, spears, and bows. Some armor suits had been toppled over, others were wrapped up like mummies in green-brown bandages.

The curtain that had draped the walls hung in shreds from the boughs, revealing the tower's staircase. Brambles that had once covered the open doorway lay broken on the floor.

She wondered if Grimm had returned here thinking that Serena would meet him. It made some sort of sense, she reasoned, stepping across the threshold and inching up the staircase. The stairs wound upward, dark and filled with the sounds of shuffling vines. But compared to the organic, thriving mess that had been the servants' hallway, the staircase felt stagnant. The vines drooped from the ceiling and stuck to the wall, but were not growing, burrowing, reaching out for the anything else to entwine around. As she climbed, Serena wondered if this was how the whole castle would feel once the vines had taken over. She wondered if Beryl wanted it this way, to sit forever vain and beautiful in her castle of thorns.

She reached the top of the stairs. Her breath caught as she walked into the room.

"Briar Rose!"

The princess turned calmly to Serena. "You're very loud."

She was seated at the spinning wheel, her full white wedding dress gathered around her. The hem was lost in the carpet of straw and thorns beneath her.

"How did you find this place?" Serena asked, stepping toward the princess.

"I looked in every door."

"But the vines…"

Briar Rose lifted her eyes to the walls and ceiling, admiring the ivy-covered stone. "Yes, it was frightening at first, but they seem to leave you alone, as long as you leave them alone." She paused. "I also had a knife."

"Oh…" Serena murmured, looking at the needle at the tip of the spinning wheel. "Briar Rose, I think you should not be so close to that."

A sad smile appeared on the princess's lips as she returned her gaze to the needle. She reached her hand toward it and Serena flinched, but the princess merely brushed her finger along the shaft. "This? Whyever not?"

Irritated, Serena crossed her arms. "This isn't funny. We have to leave,_now._ Beryl's taken over the castle, she's taken a bunch of prisoners, and I need to find Grimm so we can fix this whole mess. I don't really need a sleeping princess on my hands, so if you could just step away from the spinning wheel and come with me—"

"I will be less of a burden to you this way," Briar Rose interrupted, taking her hand away from the needle and gently grasping one of the wheel's ornate spokes.

"That's not true. Maybe you can help me. You can outwit the curse, Briar Rose. You don't _have_ to prick your finger. Come with me and you can give Beryl a piece of your mind, tell her that her silly curse isn't going to control you, that you can do whatever you want!"

Briar Rose laughed heartily and raised twinkling eyes to Serena. "You think that is true? How naïve you are. We cannot prevent this any more than we can prevent death. That is the meaning of a curse. Even if I decided to try and fight it, to stand up and leave, I would inevitably trip on my skirts and grab the spindle for balance and prick myself then. Or a random wind would push the spinning wheel over and the needle would scratch my ankle as I left. The curse will find me. It cannot be avoided."

Pursing her lips, Serena inched forward. The princess looked unconcerned, smiled at her, and stepped on the little pedal beside the wheel. With a gentle push, the wheel began to spin on its axel, whirring and creaking from age. "This is the first time I've seen one of these. They were banned from my kingdom after my blessing ceremony."

"Maybe you're right," Serena said, quieting her tone in hopes of coaxing the princess away. "Maybe the curse can't be avoided. But why make it easier for it to find you? Why not at least try to escape it? You know that Endymion's gone, and with these briars I don't think he'll be able to get in and—"

"Endymion! I would rather sleep for all eternity than be kissed by him!"

Serena paused, taken aback. "Don't you think that's a little harsh?"

"If love's first kiss is a result of that union then love is a lie and I want no part of it."

"Oh, but Alex!" Serena exclaimed.

Briar Rose cringed at the name. Reaching out, she grabbed hold of the spinning wheel.

"I should have told you—he didn't kill Raye and Jadeite!"

Furious blue eyes met Serena's. "Of course he didn't kill them! Did you think I believed it for a moment?"

"But… it's just that it's proven…"

"And what does that change for me? He is still locked away, still a prisoner. Where before he was sentenced to death by the King and Queen of Aysel, now he will be sentenced to torture and worse by the Queen of Cashlin. I still cannot save him, and he still cannot save me. Princess Snow White is still dead. Prince Jadeite is still dead. I am still cursed. And my love—" She paused, panting from anger and withheld tears. "My love still does not love me."

Wringing her hands, Serena said, "He didn't write the letter. It was a fake." At Briar Rose's baffled expression, she continued, "The letter was written by Andrew, in an attempt to break your connection to Alex and ignite a romance between you and Endymion. He thought that Endymion being in love with you would ensure that he would be here when Beryl arrived."

"Andrew, the Guardian of Romance?"

"Yes."

"Why would he want Endymion to be here when Beryl arrived?" The princess's frown deepened. "How would he know that Beryl was coming at all?"

"Because the guardians are working for Beryl."

Briar Rose gaped. "That's impossible! The guardians work for Lord Grimm. Everyone knows that."

"Everyone's wrong. I saw them with my own eyes, bowing to Beryl. I heard them explain what they had done to assist her in taking over Aysel. How they had twisted the stories to help her…. How they had used me to help her."

Lowering her eyes, the princess smoothed down the skirt of her dress, slowly shaking her head in disbelief. "But they blessed me, when I was a baby. They were good. They helped Lord Grimm. Why would they have chosen to work for Beryl?"

"I don't know. But they did. And they've done so many horrible things, I'm sure I don't even know the half of it. Seiya was the one who killed Raye and Jadeite. And Andrew wrote the letter that broke your heart.

"Don't you see, Briar Rose? If Alex didn't write that letter, maybe he really does love you after all. If you have something to live for, don't throw it away now. Besides, that is what Beryl wants you to do. You would be helping her win."

"But it's a curse. I can't avoid it. I can't just wish it away."

Serena smiled and held out a hand to the princess. "But you can try, can't you? Maybe together we can fix this mess. Maybe we can rescue Alex."

Briar Rose looked at Serena's outstretched hand, then slowly slid her gaze to the needle glowing silver in the room's dim light.

"All right," she finally whispered, looking at the needle like an enemy. "I'll try." With slow, measured movements, she gathered her skirt up around her legs and set each slippered foot carefully amongst the brambles. Her eyes met Serena's again as she lifted herself from the seat of the spinning wheel. Though they were barely a few feet apart, the distance between them felt suddenly cavernous. When the princess reached out and took Serena's hand, relief stirred in both of them.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Serena said, her smile brightening. Briar Rose grinned in agreement. "Now let's get out of here, shall we?"

As Serena turned toward the doorway, Briar Rose stepped forward to meet her, then gasped as she felt her dress catch beneath her.

"What is it?"

"My dress, it's caught on the thorns."

Serena looked down and noticed that, indeed, the vines had sneaked along the folds of the pristine gown, pinning it to the floor.

"Hold still, I'll get it," Serena said, kneeling down to untangle the skirt.

"Don't try to save it," Briar Rose urged when Serena was too ginger with the satin material.

With a nod of agreement, Serena grabbed a fistful of the skirt and tried to rip it away from the thorns, but more seemed to grow up and pierce the material with each seam that was set free. Panicking, Briar Rose bent to help her, each desperately grasping and pulling on the material until there was a loud rip and the princess screamed and began to fall backward from the momentum.

"No!" Serena shouted, reaching out to push the needle away, then crying out in pain as the needle's sharp tip punctured her finger.

Briar Rose collapsed against the spinning wheel, mere inches from the spindle and stared, panting, as Serena fell to her knees.

"Serena, thank you. You saved me."

But the words were muffled in Serena's dizzy head as she looked at a drop of blood rising from the tip of her finger. She raised unfocused eyes to the princess and felt suddenly sick as the room spun beneath her.

Briar Rose frowned, reaching forward to steady Serena by the shoulders. "Serena, what's wrong?"

Blinking, Serena tried to reach toward the princess, but her arm felt heavy and the princess seemed to be fading quickly before her. Her eyelids sunk, her breathing slowed. With a sigh, she fell back onto the bed of ivy. The thorny vines rose to entwine around her as she settled among them, fast asleep.

The princess gawked, trembling, and slowly turned to the needle. It glistened innocently as she raised her hand and pushed her index finger against the sharp tip.

A drop of blood flowed up from her skin.

And nothing more.

* * *

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_**Nanowrimo Update**_

Thank you everyone who sent support during that crazy month! I did finish with 50,340 words—with an hour to spare! (No joke.)

It was fun and exciting, but I am so happy that it's over and I can return to normally scheduled writing projects. There shouldn't be any more long waits between updates. Thank you for your patience.

Ali


	27. Sanctuary

**Bound in Skin: A Collection of Gothic Romances Both Modern and Traditional** is now available for PURCHASE! I'm still waiting for my contributor's copies but so far it's garnering great reviews. Please order a copy, and let the world know what you think by posting a review on Amazon and BN dot com.

On that note: at this time the book will only be distributed to select stores through the Midwestern U.S. If you would like a copy your best bet will be to order it online. I do hope you all enjoy, and feel free to email me your comments!!

**Happy Belated Birthday, Kitten!** Sorry I was unable to get this up yesterday, but I hope you're in a time zone where you can wake up to it this morning.

Enjoy!

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 27: Sanctuary  
"_The poor man already had the door open and asked the  
traveler to enter. 'Stay the night with me,' he said. 'It' already  
dark, and you won't be able to go much farther tonight.'"  
_from The Poor Man and the Rich Man

It was the cold autumn air that woke Princess Cytherea. Crouching next to the castle wall, Mina held the baby to her chest and cooed softly, urging the little princess back to sleep, but for a long while she couldn't stop the whimpering. Afraid to move away from the safety provided by the thick briars until Cytherea was silent, Mina stayed put and rocked and hummed and kept her eyes darting around for any sign of movement beyond the thorns.

But the gardens appeared deserted. The vines that had sprouted from the ground were clustered several feet thick, providing barely enough room for Mina and her daughter to squeeze through as she made her way toward the wall's entrances. Branches and thorns grabbed at her cloak, but it was not the foliage she was afraid of. She was terrified of running into one of Beryl's guards. Of being kidnapped and thrown into the dungeon as the rest of the royal family had been. Of having her beautiful daughter snatched away.

Night had come and the rain clouds had moved on, but a misty fog still hung above the kingdom. Nevertheless, a harvest moon was trying its best to break through the fog, caressing the highest vines and leaves with traces of gold. The world had never seemed so eerie as it did with the moon peering down like a yellow eye, watching. Mina lurked behind the wall of vines and tried to make out familiar shapes in the shadows. Most of the beautiful topiaries had been uprooted from the soil when the briars had taken over, leaving the ground littered with broken stems and crushed blossoms—all glittering with misty condensation.

After nursing the child, Mina cocooned Cytherea in the blanket and forced herself to continue trudging through the brambles. She knew that they were getting close to a garden gate and hoped that once they were through she would find the town just as deserted of guards. And she desperately hoped that the townspeople were unharmed—though likely scared out of their wits. Mina would have no time to comfort them or give guidance, though. She had a mission to fulfill.

What branches Mina could skirt around, she did, always saving the sword as a last resort and stepping as carefully and quietly as she could. But her caution seemed unwarranted as the castle gate finally came into view. Mina paused and peered into the darkness. There were no henchmen in sight. The castle windows, mostly shattered by the vines, were dark. Beyond the gate's intricate wrought-iron motif she could see the town's cobblestone street—the houses looked peaceful and unharmed compared to the ravaged castle. Most windows harbored a single burning candle.

Mina withheld the urge to run for the gate. Her muscles tensed at every cracking branch. Her eyes stung from the cold. She reached the stone wall and turned to look at the castle. The thorns had left a clear path along the road that led from the town into the castle, arching over it like a tunnel, and the huge iron-barred oak door was the only part of the castle not covered. Surely, it was now the most vulnerable part of the whole structure, and yet none of the queen's soldiers appeared to be guarding the entrance.

Turning, she looked at the gate again, dark and forbidding, yet the light from the town filled her with thoughts of safety, knowing that they were so close….

The gate was closed. She would need to leave the sanctuary of the thorns to unhook the latch. Determined, she braced herself and cast a lingering look at the castle—its empty windows, its massive, closed doorway—and stepped tentatively out onto the open pathway.

The clopping of horse's hooves stopped her. She bolted back against the brick wall, a thorn catching the flesh of her cheek as she did so. Biting her lip against the pain, she knelt down with Cytherea in her arms and listened.

The galloping got louder on the cobblestone street until the horse came to a stop just outside the gate. Mina held her breath as she heard a rider dismount, heavy boots landing with a thud on the ground. The horse whinnied and snorted. A gloved hand reached through the bars of the gate and shook—the gate rattled, breaking the spell of silence in the garden and sending Mina's heart into her throat, but the latch held. She heard a muffled curse and, after another angry shake of the gate, the gloved hand withdrew and it sounded as though the rider was preparing to mount his horse again.

But then the grating of wood on stone resounded from the castle—the great oak door was opening. Mina tried to shrink farther back into the shadows. A moment later, a short, slender figure with pale blonde hair came charging out of the castle, marching toward the gate. The moon's golden halo caught on pointed ears and Mina stifled a gasp at recognizing Andrew, Guardian of Romance, coming down the walkway. Her thoughts swam—how could he possibly have gone unnoticed by the queen for so long, and still be wandering through the castle? And where was he going? And was he aware of the rider lurking outside the castle gates?

She thought that she should warn him, but a quick glance back at the castle door alerted her to two of Beryl's guards standing watch, their eyes locked on the elf, and she held her tongue. If Andrew had been taken prisoner and was now under the control of Queen Beryl, she had no way of helping him—at least, not now. Her best option was still to escape from the castle grounds unseen.

"How good to see you, old pal!" Andrew called out, his cheery smile unsettling in the midst of thorns and fog. "Did you have a nice ride?"

"Why are the gates locked?" the rider asked moodily. "Who do you think is going to try to get in?"

Andrew chuckled and withdrew the latch, holding the gate open as the rider swept inside. Mina studied the figure, tall and wide-shouldered and dressed in a black hooded cloak.

"You never know. Endymion is still out there somewhere."

The rider turned toward Andrew and pulled down his hood. Mina felt a rising of relief—and yet utter confusion—to see Seiya's piercing gray stare focused on the elf. So the rider was a friend, not foe, and yet if he had been free from Beryl's domain, out beyond the castle walls, why had he returned without bringing help? And why were the two guardians talking so freely in front of Beryl's henchmen?

Seiya scoffed. "We do not need to worry about him," he drawled, before turning back toward the guards and nodding his head. In response, one came scurrying down toward the guardians and—to Mina's astonishment—bowed to them both, before grabbing the horse's reigns. He led the animal back toward the castle, unable to get to the stables through the thorns, while Seiya pulled off his gloves.

"Did you find the old man?"

"No. Nor the mirror."

Andrew's smile faltered. "Did you search for it?"

Seiya shot him an icy glare and began marching toward the castle's door.

"Well, she's not going to be happy, you know," Andrew said. "I hope you brought her _something_ worthwhile."

"I did."

"And what would that be?"

Seiya paused to hand his cloak and gloves to the waiting guard.

"I killed Endymion."

Mina watched, wide-eyed, disbelieving, as the guardians disappeared into the castle, shutting the door behind them. She could hardly breathe. Her strength left her and she collapsed to the ground.

Malachite imprisoned.

Beryl on the throne.

Endymion dead.

And the guardians working for that witch!

Tears pricked at her eyes. The first bout of helplessness washed over her.

But then Cytherea began to cry. Drawn from her reverie, Mina spent only a moment hushing the child, before looking up toward the gate.

They hadn't bothered to shut it.

She had the power to do one thing; save her baby girl. Standing, she checked that there was still no sign of life coming from the castle, before darting past the gate and running as fast as she could.

The town at first seemed devoid of life as Mina hurried through it, the candles in the windows burning low as if forgotten. But as Mina got farther from the castle, things changed. The window shutters were shut and the uncovered windows had drapes drawn, though Mina thought she saw shadows moving behind them. Running past one house she heard a woman snap, "Come away from that window this instant!"

Mina realized that the townspeople with homes nearest the castle had fled in terror. She figured that many had chosen to stay with more distant neighbors.

These were her people, peers in her youth and now loyal subjects, and Mina wished that she had some comfort to give them. Some advice to offer, or at least the time for an explanation. But if they knew the answer, that the infamous Queen Beryl of Cashlin had occupied the castle, there would be even wider spread panic. And of course, Mina couldn't take the chance that word would get back to Beryl of her escape.

By the time Mina reached the outskirts of town and found herself trotting along the dirt pathway stretching into the western fields, the moon had risen high overhead and returned to its ghostly silver hue. The fog was thinner over the rolling farmlands.

Cytherea, cold and tired, was crying openly. As Mina rounded the first bend in the road, the lights from the town disappearing in the mist, she slowed to catch her breath.

"Almost there," she murmured to Cytherea. "Then I'll feed you and clean you and you'll be safe." When the baby wailed louder, Mina hugged her to her chest. "I know, you want your daddy. I do too."

Cutting through familiar fields that she hadn't tread in over a year, Mina made her way through the miles of mud and stalks. As the moon began to dip toward the horizon, Mina finally saw a farmhouse amid the wheat. Just beyond it, the forest that divided the kingdoms of Aysel and Cashlin loomed foreboding in the misty night.

There was a single candle burning in a window and the smell of smoke from a woodstove permeated the air. Mina discovered tears on her cheeks as she approached the old wooden door and knocked.

She heard scuffling and the creaking of floorboards. Then the door swung open and a fireplace poker appeared at her chest.

"Who's there?" a man bellowed.

Mina reeled backward. Jolted awake, Cytherea began crying again.

"Papa!" Mina cried.

The man lowered the poker suspiciously and peered at Mina from beneath thick gray eyebrows. "Mina? Is that you?"

She nodded, filled with sudden joy—and exhaustion.

"Mina!" He dropped his weapon and threw his arms around his daughter. "And who…?"

"Papa, meet your granddaughter, Princess Cytherea."

He inhaled a long breath and pulled the blanket away from the baby's red, tear-streaked face. "She's beautiful. I'd heard about you having your baby, but the blessing ceremony…"

"I wanted to invite you, but so much was happening, and that dwarf…."

"It's all right, it's all right…. Can I hold her?"

Mina nodded and passed the child to her father, shushing as she did so. "She's cranky now. We've both had a long night and she needs to be changed."

"Ah, leave the dirty job for me, did you?" the man joked, stepping back into the warm house. Mina followed, glad to rest her arms from Cytherea's weight, and closed the door on the cold, moonlit fields.

"Denise! Danielle! It's safe! Come say hello to your sister!"

A moment later, a round face framed in large brown ringlets popped out from behind a door on the other end of the room. "Mina?"

"Hello, Danielle."

"Well, in the name of Grimm, what are you doing here? And why are you wearing that awful black dress? That isn't your color at all."

Not knowing if she should laugh or cry, Mina threw her arms around her sister. "It is good be home."

"It is?" Danielle screwed up her face and pushed Mina to arm's length. "Mina, what's going on? You've never hugged me before. We don't even like each other."

"Don't be silly, we're sisters. We love each other. I have missed you."

"But we were so mean to you after Mother died!"

"All's forgiven. It was my own fault for letting you boss me around. Where's Denise? I want to see her, too."

Danielle snorted and rolled her eyes. "She's in the bedroom, doing unknown things with a man she's _certain_ is her soul mate—whether he wants to be or not." At Mina's shocked look, Danielle giggled and waved her hand. "Don't worry, he's sleeping, but Denise won't leave his side until he wakes."

"Nonsense!" their father cried, still coddling Cytherea despite her constant cries. "She should leave that poor boy alone and get in here and meet her niece. Look, Danielle, Mina's brought my grandchild to see us. Denise! Get in here! Really, it's amazing that boy can sleep at all with all this racket."

"What boy?" Mina asked, but Danielle ignored her to admire the chubby-faced baby.

"Oh, how lucky! She looks like me!"

"She looks nothing like you!" Mina snapped.

With a laugh, Danielle chucked Mina on the chin. "It was a compliment, baby sister. But _what_ is going on at the castle? Why are you _here,_ in the middle of the night, and you look like you stumbled into a thorn bush! And there was an earthquake yesterday, late morning, did you feel it? They say it came from the castle—of all places! And this terrible fog, just like the stories…."

"Don't any of you realize that our guest is trying to sleep?" screamed the third sister as she came traipsing through the doorway.

"Denise, your sister has come to visit!"

"Yes, Papa, I heard. It's just that I thought they would teach you better manners in that big castle of yours. Honestly, who shows up unannounced in the dead of night? And shouldn't you have an escort?" Denise let her eyes wander over her youngest sister. "And you look _awful._"

"It's wonderful to see you too."

Denise folded her arms and glowered, before harrumphing. "Yes, yes, I suppose it _is_ nice to see you. But you could have chosen a better night. I'm busy!"

"Look at your niece."

"Yes, Papa, she's lovely. And very loud. And stinky. Shouldn't someone change her?"

"She _should_ be changed," agreed Mina, collapsing into a rocking chair. "But I don't know that I have the energy."

"Bah, royal life has made you lazy, I see."

"Denise, stop picking on your sister. She isa princess, after all, and deserves a little bit of respect. Mina, you just rest there. I'll take care of my darling grandchild. Denise, why don't you start a pot of tea?"

"What? And serve _her?_ Absolutely not. Make Danielle do it."

"But I want to hear Mina's tale. Can't you see on her face that something has happened?" Danielle sat herself on the table beside Mina and cupped her chin in her palm.

Denise glanced at Mina, quirking an eyebrow. "Is she right? Has something happened?"

Mina slumped back in the rocking chair and covered her face with her hands. "Yes. Something terrible. Beryl has taken over the castle. She's captured everyone—Luna and Artemis and… and even Malachite…. I don't know what she will do to them and it's all so helpless!"

"Beryl! Queen Beryl? Oh, Mina!" Danielle kneeled before her younger sister, grasping her hands. "That's awful! What about the townspeople?"

"She hasn't gone after them, yet. I don't know what she plans to do. She has the castle surrounded in this huge thorny hedge. It was a miracle I escaped!"

"Someone has to tell Lord Grimm," Denise said.

"He was in the castle when it happened."

There was a mutual gasp. "He wasn't captured too, was he?"

"I don't think so—but I don't know for sure. It's been hours since I got away. Who knows what's happened since?"

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I had to get Cytherea to safety. And now… now I don't know."

"Well you're exhausted. You can't do anything in this condition," her father suggested. "I'm going to put little Cytherea to bed and I expect you to follow. We'll all think better in the morning."

"I can't sleep! Not while Malachite is locked up in the dungeon, and all my friends…"

"Malachite in a dungeon?" a drowsy voice murmured from the hall. Mina looked up as a young man entered the room, rubbing sleepy eyes.

She jolted to her feet.

"Endymion!"

Endymion stalled, looking instantly more awake. "Mina?"

With a cry, Mina threw her arms around her brother-in-law. "I heard you were killed!"

"You know him?" asked Denise.

"Mina, what are you doing here?" Endymion asked, patting Mina's back and looking around the unfamiliar room. "Where are we?"

She pulled away. "This is my father's house. How did you get here?"

"I…" The prince's eyes glazed over. "I don't know."

"I found him," said Denise.

"No, _I _found him," Danielle clarified. "Out in the woods, lying on the banks of the river, soaking wet and nearly dead."

"We were _together,_" insisted her older sister, glaring, then flittered her lashes at Endymion. "And you were severely injured, so we carried you back here. It was very brave of us."

Endymion was hardly listening. With fierce eyes, he grabbed Mina's wrist. "I remember—it was Seiya! I was coming back to Aysel—after the fog came I knew something bad was happening—and I saw him in the woods. When he saw me he became furious and drew his sword. He said something about an ultimate plan, about me being a risk. Something about how lucky he was to stumble upon me. And then he just attacked…" Endymion's brow was furrowed as he gently reached down and rubbed a hand over his side, flinching as he felt the wound beneath the large nightshirt that belonged to Mina's father.

"I did my best to bandage you up," said Denise. "You were bleeding badly."

"Who's Seiya?" asked Danielle.

"You believe me, don't you, Mina? I know I didn't dream this up."

"Of course I believe you. Besides, I heard the truth of it from the man himself."

"You've talked to him?"

She shook her head. "Endymion, you should sit. You're hurt and… I have horrible news."

His expression darkening, Endymion widened his stance and crossed his arms over his chest. "What happened?"

With a shaky breath, Mina sat down herself. "Queen Beryl has come to the castle. She's taken everyone prisoner—including Malachite—and these awful thorns have grown up all around the castle, thicker than walls. I only barely escaped and when I was hiding in the garden I saw Seiya and Andrew. They said something about Seiya having gone out looking for an old man and a mirror…"

"Grimm," murmured the prince.

"And though Seiya could not find either of them, he said that he could offer Beryl one thing—the fact that he killed you."

Endymion snorted. "He honestly believes he has the skill to kill me!"

"It does seem as though he nearly succeeded."

"He caught me off-guard. In a fair fight he wouldn't stand a chance!"

"Well they aren't going to fight fair. Endymion, don't you see? The guardians are working for Queen Beryl, she's in complete possession of the castle, everyone's in the dungeons, and— "

"Is Serena all right?"

Mina paused. "Serena?"

"Is she all right? Did you see her?"

"I… I did see her."

Endymion inhaled slowly, kneeling at the side of Mina's chair. "Does Beryl have her?"

Slowly, Mina shook her head. "No—not when I left, at least. I saw her and there were guards after her but we hid from them. I tried to convince her to take Cytherea out of the castle while I went back for Malachite, but she wouldn't. She told me to get out and she would go back into the castle to find Lord Grimm. She'd seen him. She'd thought she could find him again."

Endymion groaned. "That stupid girl."

"It was very brave of her."

"I know," he said, standing. "I hate it when she's brave." He nodded curtly to Denise. "Where are my things?"

"Oh, uh—" Her eyes darted uncertainly around the room. "They're near the bed. But certainly you're not leaving us so soon. You're hurt and need rest…" But Endymion had already disappeared into the hallway. Exasperated, she turned to Mina, who couldn't help but feel her eyelids growing heavier. "Who _is_ he?"

Mina smiled tiredly. "That's Malachite's youngest brother."

"He's a _prince?_" interjected Danielle, gently slapping Denise on the arm. "I'll have to fight you for him after all!"

"He's engaged," Mina said through a yawn.

"Of course he is. That Serena girl is so lucky. He's _gorgeous._"

Mina laughed again. "Oh, no, no. Serena's just a guest in the castle—a sweet girl. But Endymion is engaged to Briar Rose from Obelia. Though it is odd…" she mused, rocking herself into a lull. "Yesterday was the princess's sixteenth birthday, the final day of her curse. But Endymion wasn't there for her. And he didn't even think to ask after her just now."

"Odd? It's perfectly scandalous."

Endymion barged back into the room, lacing up his arm braces.

"You're really leaving us?" Denise whined, grabbing his arm. "Don't you realize how silly it is for you to go charging into the castle in your condition? At least wait until morning!"

"I've had plenty of sleep, thank you."

"Enydmion, Denise is right," Mina said as she sat forward, forcing herself to stay awake. "You're in no match to take on the queen _and_ the guardians _and _the thorns _and _all of her guards. It's ludicrous."

"I can't very well stand around doing nothing, can I?"

"But do you have a plan?"

"How far away are we from the castle?"  
"About eight miles."

"Then I will have a plan by the time I get there."

"I'm going with you," said Mina, pushing herself to uncertain feet.

"No, you're not. You've been through too much already."

"But Malachite—"

"Mina, he's my brother! If he can be rescued, I will do it."

The princess tilted her weary head to one side. "But he isn't your top concern, is he?"

Endymion's bright blue eyes clashed with hers as he unconsciously tightened his sword-laden belt. "Mina, you need to sleep. In the morning, you can rally the farmers and the townspeople, but you're useless to me now."

"You're hurt," she repeated.

"I'm still the best hunter in the land. I'll be fine. Besides, I do have one supreme advantage."

"And what's that?"

Endymion grinned his sarcastic, lop-sided grin. "They all think I'm dead."

* * *

Even from a half mile away, Endymion could see the castle looming before him, covered in the black shadow of thorns. Their tangled mess nearly hid the structure completely, allowing only the occasional pointed tower to show through. It made Endymion sick to think of his home now posing as shelter to Queen Beryl, while his family, his friends, his Serena, were imprisoned somewhere within.

Thinking of Serena being offered escape and deciding rather to turn back and seek help from Lord Grimm filled the prince with both pride and dread. He could only hope that she hadn't yet been captured.

The wheat fields stretching to the horizon looked damp and miserable as the prince made his way through them on the muddy road. He had seen no one in his trek from the cottage and found no reason to hide himself. Surely the briars that had overtaken the castle had been noticed by all, and he was sure the news of Beryl's coming had reached even the most remote farms by now. It appeared that the terrified citizens of Aysel were opting to stay in their falsely secure homes.

Even the town felt dank and deserted. Endymion wondered if the townspeople had been taken prisoner along with the royal family, but the muffled sounds of talking and living, and a few stray chimneys with smoke swirling from them, confirmed that the people were just remaining fearfully indoors. He tried to hush the sound of his boots thudding against the cobblestone as he crept through alleyways.

Soon the stone walls bordering the castle and its ruined gardens towered before him, draped with forlorn branches. He hung back, watching the gate for movement, expecting it to be guarded by Beryl's henchmen, but he could spot no sign of life. His hair and cloak clung to him, dampened from the fog, as he gazed up at the dreary castle. It wasn't long before the pain in his side caught up with him, reminding him of the stab wound and filling his bones with a dull aching. Gritting his teeth, he checked that his sword was loose in its scabbard.

The gate had been left open. Peering past its iron bars, Endymion once again paused to survey the thorn-choked gardens in search of an enemy, but the grounds looked void of anything but the vines and branches. He crept up the walkway as silently as he could. The briars had kindly left the slimmest of openings leading to the castle's wooden doors and Endymion pushed his way forward, cringing each time a branch snapped beneath his feet. But then his hand was on the door's metal handle and he was inside.

The castle's interior looked no better. The walls and ceiling were invisible behind the layer of thorns and the ground looked more like a forest floor, all covered in branches and leaves. The hallway was filled with silence and shadows as Endymion hovered just within the doorway. Though he had walked the halls a thousand times, he now felt lost in a place that was no longer home. He wondered if it would ever return the place of warmth and love it used to be.

Though the prince had struggled to concoct a plan during his journey from the farmlands, he now found himself torn. His heart wanted nothing more than to search for Serena, but he knew that his top priority had to be finding Beryl and doing what he could to stop her. He considered heading toward the dungeons and trying to set free his brothers, who would be invaluable at his side, but he predicted the dungeons would be too heavily guarded for him to get through. Finally he decided that he was doing no good by loitering at the castle entrance, so he wrapped his fingers firmly around the hilt of his sword and trudged off toward the throne room.

The briars made for slow going. Endymion wondered if Beryl had truly meant to make the castle her home, for she had ruined it in mere hours. Maybe she had a way of ridding the castle of the thistles once the kingdom had submitted to her rule, but there would be no way of saving all of the destroyed artwork, chandeliers, and carpets that littered the rooms. The sight filled Endymion with disgust—how could anyone be so willing to rid the world of such beauty, without remorse?

But it was a stupid question, he mused with a scowl. Queen Beryl cared for only one kind of beauty. Her own.

Endymion had not even come close to the throne room when the sounds of rakish laughter greeted him through an open doorway. Holding his breath, Endymion judged the boisterous voices to belong to some of Beryl's guards. The smell of food and sounds of silverware crashing against porcelain indicated that they were taking their meal break, and having quite the time of it as they fought over choice pieces of meat and joked about the quick submission of Aysel's so-called royal family. Endymion listened, trying to gather any piece of information that could help him in his crusade, but none was forthcoming. Feeling his face begin to heat with anger at their crudeness, Endymion finally decided to back away and find a different route before his temper led him to do something rash.

Just as he was beginning to back away, though, he felt a sharp jab against his neck.

"I thought Seiya killed you."

Endymion spun away and drew his sword in a fluid movement. Before him stood Andrew, nearly two feet shorter than himself, yet looking overly confident with a sword of his own.

They stood in stalemate for a moment, swords poised, before Andrew bellowed for the guards.

The prince shifted so that his back was to a wall and he could adequately face the elf on his right and the guards on the left. There were three guards. He took a moment to assess their weapons and stance, developing a plan of attack. But though they drew their weapons, no attack came.

"Go alert Her Majesty that Prince Endymion has returned. Then hurry back and escort him to the dungeon—I'm sure he's eager to see his brothers," Andrew ordered.

Endymion kept his eyes trained on the guardian as the minions ran without question in the opposite direction, toward the throne room. Surely Andrew did not think he could defeat Endymion in a battle of steel, which could only mean that he had another strategy. The prince sank into his battle stance, prepared to lunge at the elf and drive his sword into his heart, but Andrew looked unconcerned.

A moment later Endymion understood why.

"Where are they off to in such a hurry?" Hota asked, perched on Seiya's shoulder as they rounded a corner into the hallway. Seeing Endymion, Seiya froze. Hota quirked an eyebrow.

With a smile, Andrew chirped, "I _told_ you you should have cut off his head."

* * *

_Please review. And order your copy of Bound in Skin! (Links on my bio page.)_


	28. Love's First Kiss

Happy New Years, everyone!

My resolutions:

Write most days (at this point, 4 days a week would be a huge success)  
Revise To the Gentleman in the Back  
Start my next original (non-fanfic) novel  
Write more drabbles!  
Have something worth sending to literary agents by 2009  
Eat more fruits and vegetables

Wish me luck! Feel free to tell me yours and how you're doing so far and we will root for each other.

**Please don't forget to order your copy of Bound in Skin! It's getting good reviews so far, and I'd love to know what you all think of it.**

Thanks to all reviewers and my editor, Phantasy Star, for her persistence with this monster of a story.

Enjoy!

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 28: Love's First Kiss  
_He came to the tower and opened the door to the small  
room in which Brier Rose was asleep. There she lay, and her  
beauty was so marvelous that he could not take his eyes off her._  
from Brier Rose

Seiya's normally calm expression fell into a heated glare at the sight of Endymion before him. Shaking with anger, he drew his sword.

Endymion backed away from Seiya, but with Andrew behind him, the guardians had him surrounded. He turned his stance toward Seiya, knowing that he could defeat him by sword, but uncertain what unknown powers Hota and Andrew harbored.

"Why are you doing this?" Endymion growled.

"This is not the time to be asking stupid questions, _Prince,_" Seiya snarled. He lunged at Endymion, who parried without hesitation. Seiya spun to face him again and the sound of their swords clashing echoed down the thorn-infested hallway.

"You blessed me at my birth ceremony!" Endymion said through gritted teeth, sweating from exertion. The injury in his side began to sting, a reminder that he was not at his strongest. "You blessed all my family!"

Seiya ignored him, aiming a stab at the same wound he'd given Endymion the day before, but Endymion pushed the sword away. Seiya's face grew red with fury.

"Why would you turn your back on us to go work for that _witch?_"

Seiya swung his sword at Endymion's right arm. Endymion dodged—driving his side straight into Seiya's oncoming fist. He screamed as pain ripped through him, then crumpled to his knees. He looked up with clenched jaw just as Seiya's sword whipped toward his neck—

Until the blade wilted into a dead, thorny vine.

Endymion cried out, his body still expecting the sword, but the skin of his neck was merely scratched by the dried-up thorns. He flinched away from it.

"_Hota!_"

Struggling for breath, hardly believing that he was still alive, Endymion scurried away from Seiya's heavy boots and used a wall to bring himself to his feet. One hand held his side; fresh blood was seeping through the bandages. Raising his eyes, he saw Seiya shaking the limp vine at the fairy, who now hovered effortlessly in the air with her arms folded across her chest.

"Change it back!" Seiya bellowed. The anger was terrifying on the face of a man who was normally so composed, but Hota appeared undaunted.

"I think he deserves to know."

"He deserves to _die,_" Seiya seethed.

"Just because we_want_ him to die doesn't mean he _deserves_ to die," Andrew pointed out. At Seiya's glare, he stepped back and raised his hands. "I'm not saying you shouldn't kill him, it's just a matter of vocabulary."

"Besides, Beryl may have a use for him. She hasn't killed the rest of the royal family yet. There must be a reason."

Endymion felt a flicker of hope knowing that his family was alive.

"I told Beryl that he was dead, and I will make good on that word!" barked Seiya. "Give me back my sword."

Hota sighed as if she was losing her patience with a child. "He asked us a question. I think he has the right to know why this is happening before he dies—or is taken prisoner."

Endymion pushed himself against the wall, forcing his legs to support his weight. His trembling fingers tightened on the hilt of his sword. He was grateful it had not been enchanted, but fearful that Hota could do so in an instant. He knew that his sword would be little defense against such sorcery.

"Fine, then explain it to him," Seiya spat. "But make it quick. And for Grimm's sake, give me back my sword."

Hota rolled her eyes, but with a flick of her wrist the vine stiffened in Seiya's hand and became his blade once more.

"You still use Grimm's name as that of a deity," Endymion murmured.

"It's only a phrase," countered Seiya.

"You've betrayed him as well, possibly worse than any of us," Endymion pointed out. "But why? I've heard tales that Lord Grimm rescued you all, protected you, and appointed you the guardians. Why would you betray him?"

Seiya snorted and Hota looked still more irritated, but Andrew answered, "He did appoint us the guardians, to be sure, and bestowed us with the powers required of those positions. But I can hardly say he rescued or protected us."

"And compared to what Beryl has promised us, Grimm gave us nothing," Hota added.

"What has Beryl promised you?"

"We are telling him too much," Seiya muttered.

Ignoring the Guardian of Tragedy, Andrew answered, "The traditional things that fairy-tale villains want, I suppose. Power. Riches. Kingdoms."

"Kingdoms?"

"She is to give each of us one of the three kingdoms. I hope to stay in Aysel, myself, while Seiya will be supreme ruler of Cashlin, and Hota will rule over Obelia."

"What will Beryl rule over?"

"She is going to build a castle at the Crossroads and be Empress over them all.

We are to answer to her in regards to ruling the lands, though really I think she'll be contented with the impressive title and leave us to rule as we like."

"Then it's just greed? My family has been nothing but good to you for _generations,_ and you're betraying us now because of _greed?_"

"It isn't _just_ greed, Master Endymion," Andrew said with an irritating smile. "It's a little bit of revenge, too."

"Revenge against who?"

"Lord Grimm."

"And what has _he_ ever done to you?"

Hota smirked and landed primly on Andrew's shoulder, her wings fluttering. "You know nothing of our history, Endymion. You and all your loved ones just assume that we are here to serve you and your _stories,_ never once bothering to ask how we came to be what we are."

Endymion gulped, feeling a bead of sweat snake down his brow as he struggled to regain his strength. "All right, I'm asking now. What happened to make you so bitter?"

"This is ridiculous," Seiya hissed, setting the tip of his sword amidst the vines on the floor and leaning against it. "He's just buying time."

"So let him," Andrew responded. "I have nothing better to be doing right now—do you?"

Seiya glowered, but Hota glowered back at him. "Would _you_ like to tell the story?"

Seiya sheathed his sword and leaned against the wall with folded arms.

"You see, Endymion," Hota started, "when the storytellers began to pass away so many years ago, Lord Grimm and his brother realized that they required assistance in keeping this world as fantastic as they'd created it. They were worried that their powers would not be able to compose the stories as they were meant to be composed, with all elements thereof. And so they searched the land for three assistants—and found us."

"Why did they choose you?"

"Because we had no stories of our own," she said with a mild shrug. "They of course couldn't choose a prince or a witch or even a fool—for they all had their own stories to be a part of. But the three of us had nothing. We were born into normal families in normal homes. One human, one elf, and one fairy, all with one thing in common—we were the dullest characters in all the land." Hota laughed bitterly. "And so they took us from our normal homes and normal families and made us into something very abnormal: the Three Guardians. They bestowed us with our powers and our gifts for both finding and creating tragedy, romance, and drama. And they likewise bestowed us with a curse. No matter how many stories we helped to save or protect or compose to the storytellers' wishes, we would never have stories of our own. No tragedy. No romance. No drama."

"No happy endings," added Andrew.

"Have you told Lord Grimm about this? Does he even know you _want_ to be something else?"

"I imagine not. Lord Grimm, just like you and your family and everyone else in Aysel, never bothered to question what _we _might want. We are only the guardians, created to be slaves to all of your kind, to make _your_dreams come true."

"And so when Beryl approached us with her proposition, right after Briar Rose's blessing ceremony, we did not hesitate to accept," Andrew finished, cutting Hota off before she could fall into a tirade. "We no longer require Grimm for our gifts or our powers. Soon we will be the new rulers of all the lands, and we will never be pawns to Lord Grimm, or anyone else, again."

"Have you not just become Beryl's pawns instead?"

Andrew snorted. "Beryl has only a silly mirror to give her power. We have complete control over everything dramatic, tragic, and even romantic. We have let her believe she will become Empress for this long, and who knows? Perhaps we'll let her keep the title after all. But she has no dominion over us. If anything, she has become the pawn."

The sound of footsteps reached them from down the hall. Seiya pushed himself away from the vines and drew his sword. "The guards are returning. We're not going to let him be taken prisoner by Beryl after telling him all that are we?"

"Goodness, no," Andrew said, waving his hand airily without a hint of concern. "Go ahead and kill him."

Hota gave her nod of approval and Seiya gripped the hilt of his sword with an expression that bordered on a grin.

Gritting his teeth against the pain that shot through his side, Endymion pushed himself away from the wall and sunk into a battle stance. He barely had time to examine the situation before Seiya lunged. He turned Seiya's sword away and aimed a strike for the guardian's shoulder, but his sword met Seiya's blade.

With a grunt, Seiya forced Endymion's sword to the side and stepped back. He was panting, though it seemed more from anger than exertion. "Why don't you turn _his _sword into a stick?" he growled.

"Drama," Hota answered.

Endymion drove forward but was met again with Seiya's blade. Though he knew that his skill far surpassed Seiya's, he was beginning to realize that Seiya could defeat him on strength alone. His whole left side felt weak and he could feel blood dripping down his leg. Seiya came at him again and he was able to turn him away, barely, and the guardian did not hesitate to attack, again and again. Each of Endymion's counters seemed to make Seiya stronger, faster, while Endymion only became weaker.

He spun away from another of Seiya's blows and lashed out with his blade. In his mind he knew that it was a careless move, but a moment later there was a gash over the black tear tattoo and blood on Seiya's cheek. Endymion surged with pride.

But it was short-lived as Seiya threw himself forward with all his weight—the point of his sword aimed at Endymion's heart.

The prince moved to shield the attack with his sword and only barely deflected it. The sword pierced his right side—a mirror to the wound on his left. Crying out, he fell forward. His sword dropped from his hand.

A panicked yell echoed down the hallway.

Endymion caught himself unsteadily on a thorny branch, barely able to keep himself from hitting the ground. Another blow did not immediately follow to finish him off and he forced himself to breathe, to stand, to look up at the source of the scream. Blinking sweat from his eyes, clutching his free hand to the gushing wound, he saw Lord Grimm at the other end of the hallway.

It was not the guards' footsteps they had heard.

"Endymion, run!" he ordered. His eyes blazed in fear and power as he raised both hands toward the stunned guardians.

The prince was forgotten with this new, more threatening and more prized enemy lurking in their midst. "Well, isn't this a pleasant surprise," Andrew muttered beneath his breath as Seiya wiped his bloody sword on his tunic.

Seiya advanced, Andrew drew his own sword, and Hota was already drawing archaic glyphs in the air. Grimm bellowed, "Run, you fool! Get out of here! You must save Briar Rose!"

Endymion stumbled backward, pain shooting through his spine. The name of his forgotten fiancé seemed anything but appropriate in that moment.

"_Run!_" Grimm screamed again, and smoke gathered around his hands. To match it, tiny sparks were flicking at Hota's fingertips.

Flustered, Endymion lurched backward, gripping for any vine within reach and ignorant to the gashes the thorns left on his palms. The rumbling of thunder in the hallway stopped his heart as Hota let forth a blast of magic that he could not see—only hear, and then feel. The shaking of the ground would have knocked him to his feet had he not been gripping the briars so tightly. His eyes glued to the battle, Endymion watched as Grimm raised one hand to block whatever onslaught of power Hota had cast at him. He could tell that the defense was not effortless and Grimm tottered on his feet. With regained balanced, the storyteller thrust forward with one hand and sent a cluster of thorny branches dislodging from the ceiling above and come crashing down on the elf and fairy—but Andrew was able to hold them off and suffer only a few minor scratches as Hota flew out from beneath them.

"_Run!_"

It took Endymion a confused moment to realize the command was meant for him. As another of the thunder-like claps vibrated down the hallway, he turned on his heels and lunged for the nearest corridor, using his arms to pull himself along the vine-encrusted walls while trying to keep pressure on his gushing wound. The battle raged on behind him. It was adrenaline and fear, not strength, that propelled him onward.

Just before he escaped into the hallway, he hesitated and turned back.

Grimm fell to his knees with a cry of pain. Seiya towered over him with the only smile Endymion could remember seeing on his face.

Grimm's gray eyes met Endymion's. "Briar Rose," he mouthed.

Then Seiya plunged his sword into the old man's heart.

Pushing himself away from the wall, Endymion ran.

* * *

The stabbing pain in his side made Endymion feel as though he'd been running for hours, though he knew he hadn't gotten far at all. He sprinted through the corridors, pausing only to analyze the soiled paintings or broken doors behind the vines to determine where he was. The only sounds were his labored breathing and the branches crunching beneath his boots. He saw no guards, no living creatures, just the endless creepers reaching for him—sometimes blocking his path, sometimes slithering fearfully out of his way.

Then the adrenaline-induced strength left him, all at once, and with a cry he collapsed to his hands and knees in the middle of a hallway that could have been any hallway in the palace. Endymion retched, but his stomach was empty. His head swam. Never had he pushed himself so hard. Never had he felt weaker. Gasping for breath, he wiped his mouth clean and swiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.

With a curse, he pushed himself back and sprawled out against a clump of vines. Some thorns hooked onto his already tattered clothing, but otherwise the briars were harmless beneath him. He was dizzy with exhaustion, his entire body ached, and when his palm pressed against his side, it came away sticky with blood.

But his thoughts were not on his situation or weakness or injury, but rather on Lord Grimm's last moments. _You must save Briar Rose. Briar Rose._ During all of this, Endymion hadn't once thought of his fiancé, and he couldn't begin to comprehend why Grimm had used his last breath on her. What could the princess do against the horrors of Queen Beryl, the guardians, the castle of thorns?

What could Endymion do?

He groaned with the realization that everyone had thought Lord Grimm was their best hope for salvation. And now he was dead.

The last storyteller was dead.

Endymion's eyes closed and he lacked the strength or will to open them again. His imagination replayed the death of the old man again and again, the words, _Briar Rose, Briar Rose, Briar Rose…_

With a jolt, his eyes snapped open. _Serena._

She had gone back into the castle to find Grimm, but she had not been with him. So where was she? Had she been discovered and taken prisoner, or was she…?

Endymion reached for some vines and used his last bits of strength to pull himself upward. It was an agonizingly slow ascent to standing and once there, he clung to the vines and struggled to find balance and breath. If there was the slightest chance that he could still save the kingdom, his family, Serena, then he had to try.

He took a moment to look around and realize that he was near the northwest corner of the castle, before easing his way down the corridor. Unable to think of any other option, he started moving in the direction of the throne room.

Endymion had not gone twenty yards when the silence was broken. At first he thought it was madness overtaking his mind, but he could not shake the sound away, nor ignore it. It sounded like crying. Not sobs or wailing, but the quiet echoes of sniffling and the continuous struggle for breath. He ambled toward it, cringing with every step, until an open doorway revealed to him a girl in a full white dress. She was huddled in the corner of a music room, crying into her knees. The gown that had once been unspeakably beautiful was now tattered and filthy.

"Briar Rose?" Endymion murmured, leaning against the doorframe.

She looked up at him, nose dripping and cheeks flushed, and sobbed. Despite knowing that he must look horrific, Endymion could see nothing but gratefulness in her eyes as she looked at him. Wetting his lips, he started toward her, but his body only let him take a step before the jolt from his wound made him think he should not waste the energy.

"You're alive," he said stupidly.

She sobbed again and brushed her tears away with the tips of fingers. "So are you," she accused through trembling lips.

"Come on, stand up. You can't stay here."

"Why not?"

Endymion scanned the room—violins and lutes and clarinets were scattered haphazardly across the floor, ravaged by the creepers. "You'll be caught and killed."

"Beryl has wanted me dead since the day I was born. I think I stand little chance of escaping her, so let her come."

Frowning, Endymion turned and glanced out the hallway, ever fearful of being discovered by Beryl's minions. When he glanced back at the princess, she was watching him with wide, saddened eyes.

"Why aren't you asleep?" he asked. "Your curse…"

Briar Rose lowered her gaze and set to pulling thorns out of her skirt. "The curse did not want me."

"What does that mean?"

She hesitated for so long that Endymion began to think her sanity was lost, and wondered if she was worth rescuing at all in this state. He shook his head at the guilty thought and inched toward her with an outstretched hand. "Take my hand, Briar Rose. We'll try to find a way out of the castle."

With a whimsical smile, she looked up at him again. "I do not think we should be betrothed anymore, Prince Endymion."

More certain now that her mind wasn't sound, Endymion paused and watched her sympathetically. "All right."

With a curt nod at their agreement, she continued, "The curse has chosen Lady Serena instead."

Endymion found himself choking in surprise and the metallic taste of blood was suddenly on his tongue. "Serena?"

"She was trying to rescue me. I began to fall toward the spinning wheel and Serena pushed it away, pricking her finger as she did. And then she was asleep." Briar Rose sighed, part reminiscent, part bitter. "I stayed with her awhile but could think of nothing to help her, and so I came down here. But this castle is unfamiliar to me and I could think of nowhere—"

"Take me," Endymion interrupted. "Take me to her."

Mouth agape, Briar Rose stared at him with an air of offense, before slowly gathering her composure. "I thought you were going to help me escape."

Irritation and guilt swept through Endymion, but Briar Rose ignored his hurt look and pulled herself to her feet. "I'm teasing you," she said without a hint of humor. "I'll take you to her, if I can find the way."

She led him out of the music room without bothering to check for signs of the enemy—luckily, the hallway was deserted. Endymion followed her, watching how she hardly seemed to notice the vines dangling from the ceiling and curling up around her ankles, only swatting them away when they impeded her. Even now she carried herself with the same superiority she always had, the same air befitting a princess.

By the time they reached the end of the hallway, Endymion knew where they were going and it was only the throbbing in his side that kept him from running. The door to the weapons room stood open; slashed and broken plant limbs littered the floor beneath it. Briar Rose went into the room and gestured at the revealed staircase. Endymion hardly saw all of the forsaken armor and weaponry in the room, thinking only of the spindle and Serena in the tower.

"Stay here," he commanded, though Briar Rose had already slumped wistfully against a wall.

Each step of the winding staircase was a struggle. Endymion gripped the rail and moved as swiftly at his weary limbs would allow. Finally the wooden door loomed before him. The vines had entangled it and pulled it away from the wall until it dangled from one hinge—held in balance by the restraining thorns. Endymion wasted no time in pushing it open and stumbling into the chamber.

She was lying in the center of the room, beside the spindle. The briars surrounded her, looking soft and protective despite their thorns. Some tendrils had curled up around her fingers and ankles, but they appeared more like extensions of her body than chains binding her. Her long, golden hair was draped over the branches and they entwined together like lovers.

The black dress she wore made her skin look pale and luminescent, with hints of rose on her cheeks and gently curving lips. Her lashes seemed longer than he'd ever noticed them, and did not flutter as he approached through the creepers. Her chest rose and fell with each steady, peaceful breath.

Endymion's pain was forgotten as he looked upon her, seeing the embodiment of serenity that he could not have imagined before that moment. The horror of the last day fell away from him as he lowered himself to his knees. She made no movement to acknowledge his presence, even as he reached up and traced a tender finger along her jaw. It almost felt tragic to have to awaken her from this peace that would otherwise be eternal. He hoped that she would not be bitter for being forced to return to his side.

He slid his hand beneath her neck, cradling her head and feeling the soft curls of hair winding around his fingers. His other arm reached around to her side and slid beneath her back, gently lifting her body toward him as he lowered his lips to hers.

And though it was the most natural and heavenly kiss Endymion could have imagined, it nearly broke his heart to know he'd had to steal it from her while she slept.

Pulling away, he opened his eyes and looked down on her—the slightly parted, slightly smiling lips, the flushed cheeks, the golden curls that framed her heart-shaped face, and the long, thick eyelashes that slowly fluttered open.

Serena blinked and inhaled a long breath, before letting it go in a contented sigh. Knowing that she was only partly pulled from the world of dreams, Endymion smiled down on her and kissed her again, and it was this that forced her to awaken to the reality they were in.

She gasped, and her whimsical smile was replaced with curiosity and concern.

"Endymion?"

"You were asleep."

Serena hesitated. Her eyes flickered to the spindle. Endymion could not tear his gaze from her. "I remember—Briar Rose was…" She began to shake and she lifted her hand up. The thorns released her without complaint. She analyzed her finger with wide eyes, taking in the smear of dried blood on the tip. "How?"

He could not answer her. All in a wave, the pain came back to him and he remembered that he had been stabbed and was losing blood and he had forgotten to try and stop it since Briar Rose had told him of Serena's sleep. He clenched his jaw and squeezed his eyes against the throbbing in his side and the sudden faintness in his head.

"Endymion?" Her voice came to him muffled. There was the faraway sensation of her hands on his face—feeling first his cheeks and then his forehead. He tried to open his eyes to see her, but the world blurred into white and black and he flinched and shut them again. She repeated his name, her voice full of panic, and Endymion knew that he was no longer supporting her, but she had wrapped her arms around him to keep him from collapsing.

She gasped. She'd found the blood.

It happened quickly, though in Serena's thoughts the moment was slowed down to agonizing speeds. It stretched out by each breath, each heartbeat.

She shrieked and called his name and begged him to open his eyes, begged him to look at her. Lying him down against the thorns she ripped a shred from the hem of her skirt and desperately pressed it against his side. She cried but could not feel the tears. She hovered over him and pulled her hands through his hair and cupped his face and covered him in frantic kisses.

He did not open his eyes again.

Soon, all that was left for her to do was curl up against him and cry.

And there Serena would have remained beside Endymion's body until death found her. Alone in his arms that grew slowly colder, she wept and dreamed about every moment they had shared—every argument and every flirtation and all of the chances she'd had to kiss him. All the chances she'd wasted. Serena felt that her life had started with that waking kiss, and now that blessed life had ended.

Endymion was dead.

If only he had let her sleep. If only he had not returned to the castle. If only he had loved Briar Rose or Serena had figured out the guardians' plan long ago or she had never been brought into this horrible world of magic and misery to begin with.

These thoughts consumed her and she let them, wanting to never again think of anything but her own tragedy.

Until a scream shattered her peace and stole her cruelly back.

Serena jerked up. Her heart pounded in her chest and she wondered if she had fallen asleep and dreamt such horrible things. Her hands ached from clutching Endymion's cloak and her right arm tingled with pins and needles. The rebellion of her nerves made that moment seem real and all the other moments feel fake, as if Endymion's death had not really happened—because who could take note of something so trivial as sleeping nerves when their true love had just died in their arms?

The scream came again, short and breathless. Serena found that she could not look down at Endymion and so she looked around at the thorns and the spindle and wondered if she ignored the screaming long enough it would leave her alone. She closed her eyes to listen, and to keep herself from looking down on Endymion's lifeless face. The scream did not come again but the sound of it continued to echo in Serena's ears and she began to think that it was both familiar and near. And when she thought again of lying down and sleeping beside Endymion until sleep or death or both claimed her, she felt sick to her stomach.

Opening her eyes, she forced herself to acknowledge him. She found that she loved him still, even in death. He had not changed, which made her think she hadn't been lying there as long as she thought she had. A pool of blood had flooded the stone floor. Sobbing against her will, she reached up her hand and clapped it over her mouth. Fresh tears started down her cheeks. It took her a moment to catch her breath, to force the crying to stop—as much as possible. And then she could bend down and kiss him one last time.

"I love you," she whispered. Her voice broke, but she knew he'd understood.

There was nothing left to do but stand on her unsteady legs and make her way down the treacherous stairs. It felt like walking away from the sunset and into a long, long night.

* * *

_Please review. And in case you were wondering, Yes, I did cry when I wrote that scene. _


	29. The Realm of the Mirrors

I don't think too many of you are going to be surprised by the revelations in this chapter, but I hope you will enjoy it just the same.

As we fast approach the end of this tale…

Thanks for all reviews and critiques, and to my handy editor Phantasy Star!

And also to DaBlackRose who is so kindly putting together a web site for me, which should be up within the next couple months. More on that later.

Enjoy!

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 29: The Realm of the Mirrors  
"_Mirror, mirror, on the wall,  
Who is fairest of them all?"_  
from Snow White

It was Briar Rose who had screamed. Serena found her plastered against the wall inside the stairwell. She was clutching the collar of her white wedding dress and gaping out into the weapons room.

Serena paused and looked at the princess, with her porcelain skin and terror-filled eyes. She had a sense of pity and wondered that if Briar Rose had fallen prey to the curse and been awoken only to find her true love dying, would she had left the room to seek out the source of a curious scream? Would she have better understood her role as fairy-tale heroine, tragic or otherwise?

Briar Rose caught sight of Serena from the corner of her eye and yelped, jumping away. But recognition quickly overcame the fright and she just as quickly lunged forward, taking Serena by the wrist.

"There's something out there," she whispered.

The comment seemed unimportant in Serena's head and took a long time to register. She pursed her lips and allowed Briar Rose to push her toward the open doorway. She thought of that morning—or what she thought was still that morning—when she had seen Briar Rose wandering the hallways in search of death. How much had changed since then, and yet Serena once again had to be brave, had to fix things for the better. It was almost too ironic to bear.

But she didn't think she had any other choice, and so she followed the princess's lead and poked her head into the weapons room.

It seemed empty, excepting, of course, the scattered armor, the beaten weapons, the broken vines. She shook her head, but then paused, thinking there had been a movement. She watched and listened until she was sure there was indeed a shuffling beneath a shield that had fallen against a wall. Serena held up her hand so that Briar Rose would stay behind her. Stooping, she freed an axe from the vines and held it over her shoulder. Slowly—as silently as she could—she inched toward the shield, finding it easy to be brave. Courage is always easiest with nothing left to lose.

The vines beneath the shield were still. There was no sound other than Serena's pounding heart and she knew that Briar Rose had not followed behind her. Serena lowered the axe and leveled its head toward the shield, before jerking it upward and shoving the shield away.

Her breath snagged as she stared at two calm red eyes in a small furry face staring back at her. In the distance, she heard the shield roll a ways and clatter to the ground.

Briar Rose approached from behind and murmured, "A cat?"

Serena dropped the axe. "Puss in Boots."

Puss in Boots stretched his two white paws out in front him and curled his back upward to the ceiling. With a yawn, the cat was satisfied, and languidly retracted his paws. His red eyes returned to Serena, followed by a bored blink and a twitch of the tail.

"Where did he come from?"

Serena absently looked around the room, wondering the same thing herself. "He belongs to Lord Grimm."

Briar Rose crouched down. "I didn't know that Lord Grimm had a cat," she said, holding her fingers out beckoningly. Puss looked away.

Looking down at the princess, Serena knew that Briar Rose did not understand. No one knew that Jacob Grimm was still alive. They all thought he'd been taken by the same fever that had killed the other storytellers. She did not want to take the time to explain it to the princess, so instead she turned to the cat, who was now licking one paw and running it behind his ear to clean the hard-to-reach spot on top of his head.

"How did you get here?"

Puss paused and blinked up at her before returning to his bath.

Hardly in the mood to be ignored by a cat, Serena stooped down and lifted Puss off the ground, settling him into the crook of her arm. The bell on his neck tinkled. Instead of being surprised and agitated like she'd expect him to be, Puss snuggled against her chest and started purring.

"He's _adorable,_" Briar Rose swooned, and Serena found herself irritated with the princess too.

Serena reached for the collar and lifted the charm. The cat's name engraved on one side and the Thornrose Lane address on the other was peculiarly disappointing to Serena—she'd been hoping for some magical clue to guide her to Grimm, as it had before.

"Big help you are," she muttered, releasing the charm and scratching Puss on the neck. "You know, in the fairy tale you could talk. You did many great things. You even defeated an ogre. But what good are you to me like this?"

Puss in Boots stopped purring and looked up at her.

"What are you talking about?" Briar Rose asked. "He's just a cat."

Frowning, Serena handed Puss to the princess. "I guess you're right. Besides, nothing in this world is how it's supposed to be."

"We need to get out of here," said Briar Rose, suddenly recalling the danger they were in as she cradled Puss. She had felt indifferent to it before the cat had shown up—now she felt that she wanted to be far away from the castle, and safe. Hours ago she wanted to prick her finger and sleep forever. Now she wanted to go home—she wondered if her father, the King of Obelia, had heard of Beryl's intrusion. He must be worried about her.

"And go where?"

"We need to get out of the castle. If we stay here, we'll die. Besides, we're not doing anyone any good by staying locked up in this tower. Soldiers are bound to find us sooner or later and take us to Beryl—lock us up in the dungeon." She reconsidered, her eyes shifting away from Serena in a daze. With an ironic smile, she shook her head. "No, they would likely lock you up in the dungeon. Beryl wants me dead. I doubt she would hesitate."

"She must think you're asleep by now."

"Her mirror will let her know of the truth soon enough. Serena, why do you suppose the curse…?"

"I don't know," Serena answered curtly. "I only know that nothing in this world is how it's supposed to be."

Puss meowed and tried to stand up in Briar Rose's arms. His red eyes were fixed on the door leading out into the castle.

Lowering her voice, the princess asked, "Do you think he hears something? A guard?"

Before Serena could respond, Puss had clambered his way out of Briar Rose's hold and bounded to the floor. He meowed again, louder, and Serena sucked in a frightened breath. "Puss, hush," she ordered, reaching for the cat, but he dodged away and headed toward the door, meowing more urgently. "Puss in Boots, stop that!"

Panicking, Serena lunged toward the door and grabbed the cat, desperately trying to shush him. But the harder she tried to subdue him, the louder he cried, until the room was filled with his shrill meows.

And then the door began to open.

The two girls stepped away and Puss fell quiet.

Dropping the cat, Serena retrieved the axe she had chosen before. Briar Rose plastered herself against the wall beside the blue curtain, ready to disappear up the stairs in a moment's notice.

"Puss, are you in here?"

Serena gawked at the small old man who peeked his head into the weapons room. Their eyes met and he gasped, jolting his crooked back upward to an almost upright position. Puss strolled toward the man and rubbed against his leg.

"Well, I'll be," Jacob Grimm murmured, pushing aside a cluster of vines with a walking cane and stepping inside the room, shutting the door behind him. He looked just as Serena remembered—the brown trousers and white shirt and suspenders, the monocle dangling from a chain around his neck, the way he carried himself slumped over and sad. Now he held a cane that helped to propel him a bit faster and a brown sack slung over one shoulder that looked heavy and forced him to lean to that side. He removed it from his shoulder and set it among the vines.

Serena could not stop staring. Seeing Jacob Grimm reminded her of the day she'd first come here—she and Melvin had walked home from school, she hadn't gotten to say goodbye to her mother before departing for Thornrose Lane, and there had been some forgotten gossip about Darien Shields . . . how different everything had become.

"You're in a right bit of trouble, now aren't you, child?" Jacob asked, glancing at a terrified Briar Rose hovering in the stairwell. He politely inclined his head toward her before looking at Serena again. Noticing the glossiness of her eyes, he softened his gaze. "I hope you aren't upset with me. I didn't mean for it all to end up so badly… to put you in so much danger. But I thought it was the only way… and given who you are, I thought you were our last chance…"

"What do you mean?" Serena whispered. "Who am I?"

He blinked at her, uncertain. "Hasn't the curse come yet?"

Serena gaped. "You knew that the curse…"

Briar Rose was right behind her, sweeping out into the room with wild eyes. "Who are you and what do you know about my curse?"

"Stop it," Serena hissed, grabbing the princess's arm. "This is Jacob Grimm—Lord Grimm's brother. He is one of the storytellers."

The princess reeled back, and turned to the old man in disbelief. He smiled wanly. "You must be the princess of Obelia. You won't remember me—I left not long before you were born." He paused. "The king would remember me."

"You're dead." Her words rang with certainty. "Lord Grimm told us all that you died of the same fever that killed the other storytellers. He would not lie to us. The fog even came, so it must be true. You're an imposter." Her voice wavered slightly but she looked regal and composed. Jacob only looked at her with sadness in his dark eyes.

"I'm dreadfully sorry that I do not have the time to explain all of these matters to you—to both of you. Simply put, I had to leave this kingdom in order to protect some things that were very dear. It was inherently important that no one know, else evildoers find out. Only my brother knew, of course, and… also the king of Obelia."

Briar Rose's expression darkened. "My father would have told me."

"No. No, child, I'm afraid he wouldn't have. It would only have endangered you and all of his subjects."

"He's telling the truth," said Serena. "Lord Grimm told me all this himself. Jacob was sent to my world, in order to protect…" She hesitated. Could the princess know?

But Jacob solemnly nodded and finished for her, "To protect the fifth magic mirror. We did not want to destroy it—having already destroyed two others, we thought it might be helpful to have it in the fight against Beryl. But we also did not want to risk it falling into her hands, or any evil hands."

"So why did you come back?" Serena asked. "When we met, you told me that you couldn't come back here, because it would put everyone in danger."

"And so it has—but it could not be avoided." His voice caught. "You see, they've killed my brother."

"Lord Grimm?"

"It isn't possible!" Briar Rose cried. "Now I know you _are_ a liar."

"It was the guardians that did it," he continued brokenly. "Our very own guardians."

"Then you know that they're working for Beryl."

"Well… yes. Though I suspect they have much larger ambitions of their own." He sighed, adding, "It has become such a sad story, hasn't it?"

"What do we do now?"

"I'm not sure, child. This never should have gotten so bad. Queen Beryl has become too powerful, and the guardians too greedy. And all of my fellow storytellers dead, and me so old."

"But you're still a storyteller! There must be something you can do. We just need a plan…. Maybe if we could release the prisoners… or gather the townspeople…"

Jacob smiled whimsically at Serena, as if looking at a silly girl telling stories. "They killed my brother, who was always so much stronger than me. What can we do against them?"

Suddenly furious, Serena gathered her black dress into her fists. "Well we have to do something! We have to try! We can't just let them win!"

"Keep your voice down," Briar Rose hissed.

Ignoring her, Serena stomped toward the old man. "Fine. Then send me home if you don't plan on doing something. I'm through with all of this."

"I'm afraid I can't, Serena. We would need to go back to the bridge, and I see no way of getting there now."

"What bridge?"

"The bridge between the worlds, that you first came through."

Serena shook her head. "There wasn't a bridge! There was Thornrose Lane and then there was here."

"Yes—that was the bridge."

Serena's heart sank. "You mean that little shack of his, out in the fields? I have to get all the way back there to get home?"

"I'm afraid so. And I do not think it will be easy to escape from the castle unnoticed."

"That may not be true," suggested Briar Rose. "I was wandering the halls earlier, before Endymion showed up, and didn't see a soul. No servants or guards or anybody. It seemed positively deserted."

"Endymion you say? Where is the prince? If he hasn't been taken prisoner, perhaps he can help…"

Serena's chest tightened and she had to look away.

"He's dead," said Briar Rose—her voice as cold as the words, too truthful. Serena gaped at her, heated anger suddenly rushing through her veins, but Briar Rose met her gaze calmly. "I saw how he was bleeding. And when he did not return with you…" Trailing off, she turned back to Jacob. "He had been stabbed when I found him and bleeding very badly. But I told him of Serena meeting the curse instead of me, and he wanted to see her. The spinning wheel is beyond those stairs." She gestured, and Serena realized that it was a kindness of her to explain what she could not, though it did not make the words easier to stomach.

Slowly, she was able to breathe again. She could not help feeling a little saddened that the secret she had harbored of Endymion's death had been no secret at all.

Jacob was looking at her—pitiful and devastated. She held his gaze, thinking that they should all know she was in pain. Her heart was broken. She was far weaker than either of them at that moment, but still willing to be brave.

"I see," Jacob finally murmured, turning away. She did not think he really saw. "Well then…. I am so sorry. He was a fine prince."

"Did you even know him?" she spat, more harshly than she'd intended.

Choosing his words carefully, Jacob said, "Child, we have both lost someone very dear to us today."

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "So I think we should not let their deaths go to waste. They both died protecting this kingdom, and protecting us. Don't you think we owe it to them to try and set things right?"

"I've lost someone too," Briar Rose whispered, stepping forward as if she were hoping to be admitted to a selective club. "Not to death, but I don't doubt that Alex is being tortured, and will die soon." Her voice broke—she'd been trying hard not to think of him.

Jacob looked like he would have collapsed of exhaustion had it not been for the cane in his grip. "There is one possibility… one advantage we have. But it may be dangerous."

"Anything we do will be dangerous."

Taking a long breath, Grimm shifted on his heels and tapped the brown sack he had carried inside with his cane. "There are three remaining magic mirrors. Beryl is never seen without hers nearby. My brother hid his where it would be safe, for a time. And then there is mine."

Serena looked down at the bag. Having followed the tip of Jacob's cane like a toy, Puss in Boots had crawled up onto the bag and curled up there, grateful to find a soft place out of the thorns.

"You brought the magic mirror into Beryl's castle? What if she finds it?"

"It is a chance I had to take. I fear it may be the last option we have."

"And what can we do with it? I thought it was just for spying on people. Are we going to_watch_ her to death?"

Jacob scowled. "If that was all there was to it, why would we have been so intent on keeping them out of villainous hands? Obviously Beryl nearly killed you that night in the well with the poisoned comb—and she nearly killed Snow White in her room, using a corset."

_Obviously._ Serena felt ignorant again. "We can do those things too? Attack people through the mirror?"

Jacob looked uncomfortable, but nodded. "Beryl has had much more practice entering the realm of the mirrors, of course, but it is a possibility."

"How does it work?"

Stooping down, Jacob pushed Puss off the bag and opened it with the utmost care. Then he reached inside and lifted the mirror from its confines. Briar Rose hid her face behind her hands, peeking out between her fingers as if the mirror was a living beast.

But it was not a frightening thing at all. Just a mirror with a weathered wood frame and warped, dingy glass. But Serena was not fooled. She had seen an identical mirror in Grimm's hovel, revealing the angry red eyes of Queen Beryl as she desperately searched for Snow White. And she had seen a third mirror of the same likeness in the throne room, when Beryl had asked who would be fairest and the mirror had revealed Serena in her hiding place. The beat-up, decaying look of the mirrors was surely a façade to keep ignorant thieves away.

Jacob was holding it as if it was an old friend, cradling it against his chest. "It is difficult to explain how the mirrors work. They are all linked together—like five tunnels that meet in one center, a crossroads. We call it the realm of the mirrors. When you use them to peer through the other magic mirrors, you remain where you are physically and can only look, like looking through a window. And you can look through all other mirrors in the land, but it is more difficult, like looking through a very dirty window. But then, if the mirror allows it, you may enter the realm of the mirrors and… travel, in a sense, to the other mirrors. But it is very difficult. I must confess, I was not aware that one could travel through a magic mirror into a non-magic mirror, such as the reflective surface of water, or a simple vanity. Beryl has proven that it can be done."

"But you can't get into this realm through a normal mirror, can you?"

"No… no, it must be one of the five magic mirrors. Or, anymore, one of the three."

Serena looked into the mirror's dingy surface and saw her reflection looking back. "So that's how we can get to Beryl, and she wouldn't expect it."

"It is not a simple thing, Serena. If it were easy to travel through the mirrors, Beryl would have killed Snow White and Briar Rose long ago. But it has taken her many years to have such control over her mirror."

"But you helped make the magic mirrors. You've been in possession of this one for… decades. Centuries, even! You must be able to do anything you want with it now."

Jacob lowered his eyes. "That is not so. I never enjoyed going into the realm and have avoided it. I have only used the mirror for watching these many long years, and I am not terribly familiar with it, nor it with me. Besides…" He paused, looking back at Serena pleadingly. "I will not be the one going into the realm."

"You mean I have to go alone?" She turned to Briar Rose, who had removed her hands from her face but was still staring at the mirror with a stricken expression, her face almost as white as the dress she wore. Without asking, Serena knew that Briar Rose would not dare go with her. She turned back to the mirror, glaring, and muttered beneath her breath, "You're both cowards."

"I am old and weak…" Jacob began, but Serena held up her hand to silence him.

"It doesn't matter. I'll do it. I will put an end to Beryl's reign—for Endymion if for no one else."

"Of course, Beryl is only a small portion of our worries..."

"One enemy at a time," Serena seethed. She would deal with the guardians next.

And then she would bury Endymion and go home and cry for a long, long time.

"What do I do?"

Jacob held the mirror so that Serena was face to face with herself. She was pale and her eyes were rimmed with red, but she was strangely beautiful in that moment. Her face was filled with the loveliness of a girl who has recently discovered what true love meant.

"You must tell the mirror what you want to see, or where you wish to go. It is often easier to go into the realm first and then decide from there what other mirror you wish to go through. Try to be as clear as possible, for the mirror can mistranslate any obscurities. And you should know that the mirror sometimes takes awhile to get used to a person, so it may not work on the first—"

"Take me into the realm of the mirrors," Serena ordered, unwilling to be made frightened by Jacob's words. She wanted only to have it done with.

Her reflection began to shimmer and swirl—distorting first the outermost edges of the glass, her hair and shoulders, then swimming in to her ears and forehead and lips and nose. In the background she could see Briar Rose backing away, her wide-eyed gaze plastered to the mirror, before her image faded out completely and only Serena's muddle of features was left sinking in the frame. She felt dizzy and closed her eyes and felt the world turn over beneath her.

* * *

The realm of the mirrors was a dark and isolated place. It had been forgotten in some corner of the world. A place between places. A path so rarely traveled that its purpose seemed nothing but an afterthought. The realm was left abandoned. The only living thing that ever stepped foot into its shadows was Queen Beryl, seeking vengeance, leaving shallow traces of vanity and envy in her wake.

Serena could hardly breathe. The air was thin and cold and her eyes strained against the pressure of the dark. She thought she could see walls somewhere in the distance, but the harder she looked at them, the farther they receded into a gray, empty mist. She had to close her eyes and inhale deeply to bring the walls back and then she did not try quite so hard to see them.

The floor was solid and yet when Serena took an unsteady step forward she felt nothing to place her foot on, like walking off a cliff. But looking down, the colorless stone was there to greet her and only then did her weight shift and she could feel herself grounded again. Her stomach looped.

There were five walls that shimmered and faded in the gloom. Five walls with five frames mounted in their centers, frames that were dusty and chipping with age but must have been divine in their conception. The true magic mirrors of the storytellers. Gold gilding had brushed off in flakes and a few remaining gems appeared black with shadow and grime. Holes where there had once been jewels were left empty.

But their carvings—splintering and cracked though they were—could not hide the intricate beauty that had once possessed them. Ornate pictures of merpeople and fae, phoenixes and dragons, dwarfs and elves covered every inch of the massive frames with such artistic perfection that the creatures looked ready to breathe in the murky air.

Two of the frames, one on either side of Serena, were empty of glass save a few fractured pieces that jutted out of the frame. Though those few remaining shards clung desperately to the carved wood, there was no reflection in them when Serena searched for her face in theirs. These were the two broken mirrors.

The glass in a third mirror was completely black and refused to cast any light into the realm or out from it, and Serena guessed that it was Lord Grimm's mirror, hidden somewhere safely where even Beryl could not track it. Peering into the emptiness gave Serena a sinking, dreadful feeling, and she turned away.

The mirror at her back was the realm's main source of light. Through it Serena saw a blur of gray and green, but looking harder the colors morphed into shapes and figures and soon she was looking into the vine-draped weapons room. Briar Rose cowered in a corner, staring at the mirror with terror. From the side, Jacob Grimm emerged with worried lines in his face. He blinked into the glass and Serena blinked back, wondering if he could see her.

"Lord Grimm?" she whispered. Her tiny voice bounced off the mirror and danced around the small room, a ghost whispering back to her. Jacob's image beyond the glass did not falter.

Pursing her lips, Serena turned away and found herself facing the fifth mirror. She stepped toward it. There was a crunch beneath her toes and she paused. Looking down she saw broken glass scattered across the floor, the floor that had decided to become solid, glad to have some un-wicked thing walking across it again. Serena saw the glass, sharp and black, unreflective. It glittered up at her, the remnants of something once magical.

With a fresh breath in her lungs—the air was thickening with every intake—she focused her gaze on the fifth magic mirror. The room beyond it was navy and gray with a hint of silver glowing on an invisible horizon.

Serena looked harder and the hint of silver became a silver orb and then the moon, glowing through the glass of a bay window. And then there were vines and leaves and thorns, their edges tainted with the moon's wash, that slowly gave shape to walls and ceiling and a crystal chandelier that caught the light glinting beneath the vines that drooped from it.

The mirror's haze lifted, burned through by the silver light, and revealed a four-poster bed draped with silks and a mahogany vanity with a silver-framed mirror highlighted by glowing candle sconces.

Before the vanity sat a woman.

Beryl gazed adoringly into the vanity's mirror, running a bejeweled comb through her thick, cinnamon-colored hair. Her fiery eyes glinted with the candle's light, her crimson lips held the hint of a curl—she was pleased. Her features were as sharp, her cheekbones as high, her skin as flawless as Serena remembered them. She was beauty of the most disturbing kind.

Serena realized that the room in which Beryl sat was the royal bedchambers—the new queen had been quick to claim her sanctuary.

Serena's second realization was much more shocking, such that her pulse stopped.

The scene before her was the same as she had seen in the well, only now it was Beryl combing her hair before the vanity mirror, and it was Serena lurking in the shadows behind her. Her heart thudding, Serena recalled the words that Beryl had said to her then—"Silly girl, a bride does not comb her own hair."

But Beryl had mistaken her for Snow White, hadn't she? But then why would she have called her a bride?

It was too much to wonder. Steeling herself, Serena murmured into the silence of the realm, "Silly woman, a queen does not comb her own hair."

Beryl froze and her gaze shifted upward in the mirror and was met with Serena emerging from the shadows, from the wall where she had hung her magic mirror.

It took barely a moment for the new queen to return her expression to tranquility—sweetness, even. Her lips curled into a sultry smile that was all confidence and conniving beneath the innocence. "My, my," she purred to Serena's reflection. "Darling princess, you look just like your mother."

Startled, Serena stepped back and collided with the bedroom wall—the magic mirror trembled.

Beryl set the comb down on the vanity and rose from her chair. She was dressed in a heavy velvet night robe the color of ripe plums. In the moonlight, her nurtured pale skin looked transparent and the candle flames behind her were no match for the embers in her eyes.

"It is not surprising, of course," Beryl continued in her sing-song trill of a voice. "Your mother was also gifted with beauty at her blessing ceremony. You natural-born royalty come across it so easy—the power of charm and a lovely curve of the face are handed to you at birth. While the rest of us must work for what we become." Her voice carried the quietest undertone of bitterness. Then she laughed lightly, as though a witty thought had just entered her head, and murmured, "I guess I'm one of the lucky ones—I was gifted with nothing at birth, and yet beauty and power are mine at last." Her gaze shifted around the room, before it fell on Serena and she fluttered her lashes. "I _have_ worked for it all, though."

"You don't know my mother," Serena blurted, finding her tongue again, reminding herself of the conviction she'd had moments ago.

"Not well, no. I only met her once, actually. At _your_ blessing ceremony." She teasingly tapped a lacquered red nail against Serena's chest. Serena pushed it away and skirted the wall toward the bed, eager to put distance between her and the witch. Beryl seemed indifferent.

"You're confusing me with Briar Rose. I am not the girl you cursed sixteen years ago."

"No?" Beryl smiled now as if _Serena_ had said something very witty. "Have you not pricked your finger and slept, little princess?" Serena could not keep the truth, and doubt, from her face. "You see," Beryl continued, "you are one and the same."

"It was a fluke. This world is all wrong. It wasn't supposed to be me."

"My curses are never flukes. You are Princess Briar Rose of Obelia."

Serena shook her head. "My name is Serena. I'm not from Obelia—I'm not even from this _world._"

Ignoring her, Beryl glided to the large bed and seated herself at its edge. "They certainly had me fooled, though. They had us all fooled, I think. Tell me, where have they hidden you all these years? And why didn't your mother return with you—I would think she missed being royalty, not that I would allow her the throne for long. Ah! And that lovely green-haired girl, wherever did they find her? She must have been gifted with beauty as well, yes? But of course she was, or I would have known immediately…. It's been a curiosity in that kingdom as of late, though, villagers wondering wherever did the princess get that strange hair color from? I bet they didn't plan on that when they replaced you."

"You're mad."

Drawn from her musing, Beryl fixed her twinkling eyes on Serena again and hummed, tilting her head to the side and examining Serena from top to bottom. "I'd thought I was imagining things when I saw you in the well," she said, and Serena felt irritation brimming inside of her. "But when I saw you in the mirror, in the throne room, I was sure—that same hair, those same eyes. Why, you hardly have an ounce of your father in you at all."

A chill crept up Serena's spine.

"You're not convinced," Beryl mused, grinning patiently.

"Why should I believe a word you say? You're a liar and a thief and a murderer."

Beryl pursed her lips together, withholding a chuckle, and the skin around her lips crinkled—the first traitorous sign of age. Unscathed by Serena's insults, she swept them away with a flick of her slender wrist. "Believe or refuse to believe, it matters not to me. You know it is true. Every princess knows that she is a princess. She is born knowing it, and you are no different. But deny it as you like." With an exhausted sigh, the new queen lifted herself from the bed and floated to an armoire. Throwing the doors open, she began to ruffle through the dresses inside—Queen Luna's dresses. "I hope they have a decent tailor in this town. None of these are going to fit me," she mumbled to herself, scanning the garments with a trained eye.

Serena watched from the corner, feeling as though the queen had just dismissed her like a common servant. Which was crazy—she had come here with a purpose. But now she was having trouble remembering what the purpose was. Beryl's words resounded in her, striking a familiar chord of longing and hope and doubt.

Since before she could remember, Serena had dreamt of being a princess. As a child, she'd believed it, and thought that for sure her mother was a queen from some foreign land, dethroned for loving a commoner—or something equally dramatic. But this was normal, she'd always told herself. All little girls dream about being princesses. All little girls dream about being in a fairy tale and falling in love with a prince.

But she _was._

Suddenly faint, Serena stumbled back against the cold window pane and a tangle of thorny vines reached forward, slithering along her wrist. Jerking away, Serena's senses returned.

And she knew that Beryl was telling the truth.

Everything started to make sense. _She_ was Briar Rose—cursed, betrothed Briar Rose. The Lords Grimm knew. The King of Obelia knew. _Her mother knew._Afraid for Serena's life, her mother must have sought out the help of Lord Grimm, and he had decided to hide them both somewhere where little Briar Rose would be safe. He sent them to his world and told everyone that the queen had died mysteriously. In order to fool Beryl about the child, he had replaced Briar Rose with another infant, blessed the imposter princess with beauty and raised her as royalty. And so, safe and unsuspected, the Queen of Obelia and her baby daughter made their way to a different world, where the second Lord Grimm was there to greet them. She came to know it as home. But not her mother. Her sad, lonely mother, who had to leave her kingdom, her friends, her husband, in order to save the life of her only daughter.

And in the end, it hadn't mattered. Serena had made it back to the land of the storytellers anyway, and now she was here, in the presence of the woman who wanted nothing more than to kill her.

Because Serena had defied the curse. Because Serena was the destined ruler of Obelia. Because Serena would one day be fairest of them all.

Beryl held a fine corset up to the light, analyzing its beads and lace. It was not terribly unlike the corset she had used in her attempt to kill Raye. Disinterested, the queen flicked it away and moved on to the next article of clothing—a brocade cloak.

Serena inched toward the vanity to get a better view of the queen and her stolen treasures. A thin layer of clouds swam languidly in front of the moon, filling the room with shadow. Reaching behind her, Serena took one of the lit candles from the wall. The queen didn't move, just held out a long velvet scarf for closer inspection. Then Serena's eyes fell on the ivory comb on the vanity and, thinking of the attack of the poison comb in the well, she reached for it. A moment later, raising her eyes, she noticed Beryl's burning stare focused on her again.

Gulping, Serena tightened her grip on the comb and took a steady step toward the queen. "I've come here to stop you, Beryl. I won't let you rule over this kingdom. I won't let you harm the royal family. I won't let you do this."

Lips curling with amusement, Beryl released the scarf and let it swing back into the shadows of the armoire. "Is that so? And what are you planning on doing with a hair comb, child? You don't think _all_ my accessories are poisoned, do you?"

"I… I'm going to break your mirror with it!"

She noted a faint panicky twitch in the woman's face, and was glad to finally achieve a reaction other than mockery.

"My mirror," Beryl drawled. Turning fully toward Serena she slammed shut the door of the forgotten wardrobe. Serena jumped back, her heart lodging in her throat as the queen paced toward her with a furious glare. "Insignificant little princess. Do you think I came to be queen of all three kingdoms by being naïve and weak? Do you think I am unprotected here? Do you think you are stronger than me, more powerful than me, smarter than me? It's _pathetic_ that you could even begin to believe such daydreams. I am your new queen and you are my servant. All citizens will bow before me, all creatures of the forests and lakes and skies will cower at my feet—and they will be grateful to have as strong a ruler as I." She reached out toward Serena, who was pressed so tightly against the vanity that the corner was digging into her thigh. The queen's sudden, furious movement made her drop the candle and the flame fell sputtering to the carpet. Beryl's perfume invaded Serena's nostrils and her long fingernails were suddenly digging into the flesh of Serena's forearms, but all Serena could think of was those hate-filled eyes searing her. "So _there_ is the future of this land," Beryl screamed. "_This _is what will be. And no storyteller or prince or pitiful princess is going to stop it!" Her fists tightened—Serena cried out in pain. Regaining sense and instinct in the terror, Serena tried to push herself away but had nowhere to go. She ripped one arm loose, ignoring the scratches that the queen's nails left in her skin, and lashed out.

Beryl gasped. In the flickering orange light, Serena saw blood beading up on the queen's porcelain cheek where the hair comb had scratched her.

The queen reached up and backhanded Serena across the face, sending her tumbling to the groun. Stunned, she looked up, expecting another attack, but the queen had forgotten her—too intent on peering at her perfectly ruined face in the vanity mirror. Her face was pure horror as she ran tender, shaking fingers along the wound.

Serena scurried away, ready to be faced with the queen's rage at any moment. Clambering to her feet, she thought to search for a weapon, but the only thing in reach was the magic mirror. Without hesitation, she grabbed the wooden frame off its hook and held the glass between her and Beryl.

The queen whirled around, trembling and fierce. All signs of beauty were washed away in the room's trickery shadows, replaced by an enraged phantom. Serena braced the edges of the mirror and clenched her teeth, ready for the queen to charge at her or pummel her with a string of curses and witchcraft.

Instead, Beryl grabbed up her night robe in great fistfuls and screamed, "_Guards!"_

* * *

_Please review._


	30. Fire

"Bound in Skin" has been receiving wonderful reviews, including reviewer G. Kyle White who said of my own story (The Phantom of Linkshire Manor):

"…_solidly written, well-paced, full of mystery and tension, and has just the right hint of romance."_

Which I find EXTREMELY flattering. There is a link on my bio for anyone wanting to read the whole review. And if you've already read it, feel free to contact me with your comments. I'd like to hear your thoughts.

And now on to the free stuff…

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 30: Fire  
_Iron slippers had been heated over a fire, and the evil queen  
had to put them on and dance until she fell down dead._  
from Snow White

"_Guards!_"

Beryl's shriek hit Serena before the meaning of the word did and she flinched back against the hall with her face still hidden behind Beryl's magic mirror. Lowering the makeshift shield in the cry's echo, she looked at ghostlike Beryl who was panting and holding her hand against the scratch on her face as if it was a mutation.

And then Serena smelled smoke.

The plush carpet had finally succumbed to the candle Serena had dropped and a fire was growing behind the queen. Her jaw dropping, Serena tried to move back but was stuck against the wall.

Noticing the smell, Beryl turned to see the flames catching their first thorny vine, which recoiled from the heat. Backing away, Beryl screamed for the guards, more hysterical yet, as the fire snuck to the wall and desperately tried to grab onto the woody branches and leaves and the heavy draperies that framed the window. Though the briars tried to shrivel away from the heat, the flames were quicker and they hungrily engulfed the vines until the entire wall was hidden behind smoke and fire.

Beryl swooned and Serena thought she would faint, but then she gathered herself up to her full height and screamed for the guards again—this time her cry was answered by a pounding on the door. The guard did not wait for an answer and the black smoke began to seep out of the room. Seiya appeared in the doorway.

It was the most surprised look Serena had ever seen on the Guardian of Tragedy as he surveyed the inferno, then the wisp of a queen standing with sweat on her forehead and one hand still hiding her scratched cheek. And then he saw Serena against the wall, holding the magic mirror .

"My room is on fire!" Beryl wailed, her beauty slightly returning in the form of a distressed damsel. "Please, stop it. Please, put it out! The whole castle will burn to the ground!"

Seiya peeled his gaze from Serena, all signs of surprise having faded, and turned cool gray eyes on the queen. "The castle is made of stone, Your Majesty."

"Stone that's_covered_ with these damn vines!"

"You said you wanted to create a spectacle of an entrance, Your Majesty. I think this will ensure your success."

Hardly hearing him, Beryl cried out in despair as the fire claimed her vanity. "My things! My jewels! My… oh, the dresses!" she wailed, turning toward the armoire and seeing Serena still in the room—she, too, had been forgotten. The queen took in a smoke-filled breath and pointed a ghastly finger. "_And she has my mirror!_"

"I noticed that."

"Enough of this._Kill her!_"

As if he'd been waiting for the command, Seiya drew the sword belted at his waist, sending Serena shuffling along the wall, but there was no way she could get around him to escape through the door, and going near the window was suicide.

But instead of attacking her, Seiya raised the tip of his sword to Beryl's throat.

Aghast, his queen looked up at him with stunned eyes.

"Enough of this," Seiya agreed. "I _will_ kill her, Your Majesty, but I will kill you as well."

"Seiya, what are you—"

"We thank you for presenting such a simple solution to our dilemma. My fellow guardians and I have been plotting for weeks the best way to rid ourselves of you while retaining the loyalty of your minions. Being attacked in your chambers by the Chosen One, and both perishing in a fire where your only remains are ambiguous ashes is the perfect arrangement. Well done."

The queen tried to back away from him, but there were flames licking at her ankles and she stood dazed. Horrified tears began to well in her cheeks.

"My darling Seiya, my favorite guardian," she wooed in her saccharine voice. "You certainly can't mean this. Did you think that I would be unfair to you? Don't you see that I have big, big plans for us—just you and me. We could rule the three kingdoms together, Seiya. Wouldn't that be better than sharing the power with those righteous guardians?"

Serena wanted to listen to them, wanted to know if Seiya was really going to kill Beryl or if she would be able to talk her way out of harm with her silver tongue, but the crackling of the fire was making it difficult to pick up their murmured words. When a branch of flaming thorns broke from the ceiling and came tumbling down at her feet, Serena decided that staying any longer would mean death—by burning or sword was debatable—but death all the same.

Grateful that the two villains were busy distracting each other, Serena turned the mirror around. She saw the haze of smoke in the reflection, the growing light from the flames shimmering over her, and her own blue eyes peering back.

"Mirror," she said, loudly in case the mirror, too, was having trouble hearing over the roar of the fire, "take me to the realm."

There was swaying and rippling and darkness again, followed by Beryl's distant scream already fading behind the mirror's surface.

Serena opened her eyes, panting. The warm, stale air of the realm was hardly satisfying and the lingering stench of smoke had come with her. Turning, she looked back into the bedchamber, wondering if the scream she'd heard had been the screech of a dying woman, or only an angry one at seeing her enemy escape.

It was the latter.

Beryl was trying to rush for the mirror but Seiya was holding her back with one arm. She clawed at his grip but he hardly seemed to notice—his cold eyes were locked on the mirror, unable to see Serena watching them from its depths, but he did not seem particularly concerned of her escape. The flames danced around them—they were eating through the bed's canopy and reaching for the chandelier that dangled precariously from the ceiling. The glass of the mirror glowed orange and white and the image became hazy with smoke wafting before it. Beryl's furious howls turned into screams of pain as the flames reached her feet and singed her nightgown and heels. They were eating up Seiya's pant legs as well, but he seemed immune to the burns.

The Guardian of Tragedy approached the mirror in two long strides and Serena backed away from the reflection. Beryl continued to cling to his arm and reached for her treasured possession when they were close enough, but he held her back. With his free arm and a smug turning-up of his lips, Seiya reached down and lifted the mirror from where it had fallen. Beryl wailed and clawed at him and tried to grab the mirror away. Her eyes were wide with panic and her face was twisted with fright and exertion previously unknown to her.

"The best thing about being a guardian," Seiya said, glancing at Beryl from the corner of his eye, "is that we have been given our own powers, and do not require such silly instruments to use them. Unlike pathetic witches like you."

Shoving the queen away, Seiya tossed the mirror into the heart of the flames.

Serena gasped. Her stomach flipped and the whole realm felt as if it had been thrown along with the mirror. She reached out for the old, ornately carved frame to steady herself but yelped and pulled back as the metal singed her hands. Cradling them in front of her chest she watched with wide eyes as the surface of the mirror showed a blanket of flames stretching up toward the ceiling and a cloud of smoke that began to seep through the edges of the glass, polluting the realm. Serena covered her mouth to with her sleeve. Backing away, she collided with the frame of Jacob Grimm's magic mirror. The glass before her started to melt—thick drops oozing down the sides turned the scene indistinguishable. Over the tumult of the whipping flames and crackling sparks, Serena heard Beryl's crying and saw a shadow collapse on top of the mirror, helplessly trying to save it.

It was too late for them both. Serena could barely make out Beryl's form choking and writhing, losing her battle with death, before the image melted to black.

She could still hardly breathe, though smoke could no longer infiltrate the realm from the destroyed mirror and the heat of the fire was vanishing into the mustiness of the room. Looking around, Serena had the sensation that the realm was shrinking. The walls were closing in on her, unable to support themselves with the sustaining power of only two mirrors.

Briefly glancing at the mirror that Lord Grimm had taken such pains to hide from the evil queen, Serena shuddered at the infinite blackness beyond. Sweating and thirsty and unable to keep her legs from shaking, she forced herself away from the supportive wall and turned toward the mirror that had been her first entrance into the realm.

A startled cry escaped her.

Andrew's pale cheeks and green-eyed stare met her. Her heart stopped and she froze—but while his emerald gaze swept over every the glass, she realized he could not see her behind it.

Over his shoulder she caught glimpses of soldiers patrolling the room, gathering up the weapons and watching over the two prisoners in the corner. Jacob Grimm and Briar Rose had been bound by arms and ankles and tossed unceremoniously upon a bed of thorns. Serena could not see Puss in Boots, but then, she could not see most of the room.

Hota came to hover over Andrew's shoulder, eyeing the mirror with suspicion. She whispered, "We can't take it to Beryl."

"I know," the elf murmured back, tilting his head so that his blonde bangs fell into his eyes.

"It would double her power—and her vanity."

"I know."

Hota glanced at the soldiers. "We should send them away."

Nodding, Andrew yelled, "Guards, take the prisoners to the dungeon and inform the queen that we have captured Princess Briar Rose and Jacob Grimm. Also tell her that Master Wilhelm Grimm is dead."

"Would you like us to leave you with an escort, Sir Andrew?" one asked.

"No," Hota answered for him. "Leave us. Keep searching the castle for any more hideaways and hold them for questioning."

The man bowed and led his guards and the prisoners from the room. As soon as they were gone, Andrew turned to Hota with raised eyebrows.

"We could hide it somewhere," the fairy mused.

"I thought that too," the elf said, "but I'm not convinced it's the best solution. Really—what use would we ever have of it? I'm concerned that it possesses more of a danger to us than an asset. What if Beryl discovers it? Or what if someone else stumbles on it?"

"We would hide it_well._"

Andrew tapped a finger against the glass, hesitated, and responded, "What if we destroyed it?"

Gulping, Serena slowly stepped back from the mirror. "No—hide it," she whispered. "Beryl's mirror is gone, she'll never find this one. Please,_hide it._"

Unaware of Serena's pleas, Hota cast a sideways glance at Andrew and considered his suggestion. "It would no longer pose a threat."

"And that would leave only two mirrors, and I think we can assume that Wilhelm Grimm's is hidden very well."

"And we can take control of Beryl's mirror when we figure out a way to kill her."

Andrew nodded.

"It's not a terrible idea," Hota mused, folding her arms and studying the mirror. "But those guards saw it—they'll tell the queen."

Andrew glanced out toward the hall. "We'll tell her that we put it somewhere safe until her rule of the kingdom is unchallenged."

"All right…" Hota agreed, her eyes squinting as she considered any repercussions. "All right, let's destroy it then." Glancing around the room filled with swords and axes, she said, "I'll let you do the honors."

Andrew chose an ax from the cluttered floor. He tore it away from the vines and held it poised over one shoulder. "Hota, dear, we are one step closer to being the strongest beings in all three kingdoms."

The fairy shook her head, smiling. "No, Andrew. We already are."

Serena covered her face with both arms as Andrew swung the ax. A deafening crash echoed through the realm. Serena felt the shards piercing her arms and chest and she fell to the ground, crying in pain. The burns on her hands throbbed, her eyes stung from the smoke, and now fresh cuts from the broken glass covered her.

Lowering her arms, she looked around and saw the new shards mingling with the glass that had already been there from the two previously broken mirrors. There was blood on her arms, but not as much as she'd been expecting. The room was shaking from the wound inflicted on it and bits of the walls and ceiling began to crumble, filling the room with tiny rivulets of dust. The walls groaned from strain, losing their purpose, their being. The realm had been created to travel between the five magic mirrors and now only one remained, shadowed and desolate. Serena crawled toward that black abyss, shaking, horrified to touch the glass, but otherwise trapped in the shrinking prison. She felt the gilded, carved frame with her throbbing fingers and used it to pull herself to her knees. Looking into the depth of the glass she searched for any sign of sanctuary—a light, a movement, her own frightened expression reflected back, but there was nothing. Only dark. Only emptiness.

The floor jolted. Crying out, she grasped the frame tighter and looked back over her shoulder. The four remaining frames—once beautiful and now forgotten, were shaking and heaving on their walls. The sound of stone on stone echoed deafeningly in the tiny chamber. The air grew heavy. Serena could feel it pressing down on her, filling up her ears until the pressure pounded against her skull. A large stone tumbled down from somewhere in the ceiling and more followed.

The realm was caving in on itself.

Panicking, Serena forced herself to stand and face the last magic mirror. Closing her eyes so that she would not have to look into its impossible endlessness, she reached both singed hands forward, felt the soothing coolness of the glass, and forced her body into it as the realm erupted behind her and pushed her through.

* * *

Serena found herself on her back, gasping for air. The smell of smoke lingered on her clothes and in her hair and she could still feel the searing heat from the flames. Her arms throbbed where the glass shards from the mirrors had cut her. Her lungs ached. She could barely breathe.

She tried to open her eyes, only to realize that they were already open. The world was black. She had never known such darkness. A shadow so thick it pressed down on her chest, choking her. She tried to bring a hand up in front of her face to see if she could pick out the shape in the darkness—but it hit something solid only a couple inches above her. She gasped and reached both hands up. They met with something solid. Her fingers stretched out, searching down by her thighs, up by her head, pressing, thudding, but it was all one solid roof above her. Her breath quickened at the first signs of panic. She was perspiring—it was warm and getting warmer. Whimpering, she pushed her palms out to the side but they were met with the same barrier only inches away. She found corners, another wall above her head, and, sliding her body toward her feet, another wall.

A box? A wooden box? With no latch. No escape.

_A coffin._

She cried out. Trembling, she pounded at the box with the little strength she had left. Where could she be? Where would Lord Grimm have hidden the last mirror? Somewhere where no one would find it, she was sure. Somewhere where no one would find _her._

Screaming and thrashing she tried to keep the horrible thoughts out of her mind. Being buried alive. The hot air in her prison deserting her. This box being discovered years later with her rotting skeleton inside—the scratch marks from her nails in the wooden lid the only evidence of how she had died.

She screamed until she was hoarse. Tears were hot against her cheeks. Her knees were bruised from striking the wood. Her fists ached. And she was so hot, so thirsty, so weak. Sobbing, struggling to suck in the stale air, she continued to beat at the wood until her pounding fists became barely slapping palms and then her hands fell down helplessly beside her. She cried and tried to tell herself that maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe it would be like falling asleep, and never waking up. Like pricking her finger on the needle.

But this time, no one would wake her.

With that thought echoing in her head, a deafening creak resounded through her prison. It was followed by the heavy sound of wood against wood and, suddenly, a sliver of light at the edge of the box. Serena's heart pounded as she watched the lid slowly slide away. Someone grunted from exertion. And then there was fresh air in her lungs and she gulped it in as quickly as she could. Her eyes adjusted and there was the moon—glowing brighter than she had ever seen it.

The lid fell to one side with a thud. There was a cloud of dust and then seven bearded faces peering down at Serena with even more shock than she felt herself.

Qualakig broke the silence. "How in Grimm's name…?"

Serena attempted a shaky smile at the dwarfs, sure they were the most beautiful sight she'd ever laid eyes on, and reached her hands to grab onto the edges of her box and pull herself out. Two of the dwarfs came to her aid and she was able to stumble out over the side of the box and onto cool, moss-covered ground. She buried her fingers in it and reveled in the scent of trees and life and fresh air. She couldn't drink it in fast enough.

"Why—there's a mirror in here too!"

Glancing over her shoulder, Serena saw Vlonterp pull the fifth magic mirror out of the bottom of the box. She hadn't even realized she'd been lying on it. Her eyes swept the small clearing, then, and a terrible chill crept up her spine when she realized that her confinement had, in fact, been a coffin.

The mirror had been placed into the base of Raye's coffin, a space barely a foot high on top of which Snow White had rested beneath her glass dome. Now, Snow White's body had been removed to a cluster of grasses and wildflowers, the glass dome still protecting her. Serena shuddered at seeing Raye so still and peaceful, just as beautiful as she had been in life.

"Did you come out o' the mirror?" Vlonterp asked her, holding the shabby, wood-framed glass against his chest.

Sitting back on her heels, Serena raised her eyes to the dwarf and nodded. "It's one of the magic mirrors," she croaked, her throat raw from screaming.

"Course it is, lady. We're quite familiar with 'em. It's jus'… we didn't think anyone went to the Realm anymore."

"Well they won't after this," said Serena. "The Realm caved in on itself when I was in there—after the other mirrors were destroyed."

The dwarfs exchanged glances, some grunting and others stroking idle fingers through wiry beards.

"Who would destroy the magic mirrors?" asked Wilopin.

"The guardians," Serena answered, and watched as the dwarfs' thick eyebrows reached upward.

"You don' mean that wing-ed creature, do ya?"

"Yes, Hota was one of them. Along with Andrew—you remember, the elf—and Seiya, the man with the tattoo on his cheek."

"Yea, we remember 'em. But why'd they destroy the mirrors?"

"Because… the mirrors were the only instruments that could challenge their own powers. With the mirrors gone, the guardians' rule of the three kingdoms will be unrivaled."

Qualakig snorted. "What rule o' the kingdoms?"

Serena's eyes shifted over the seven companions. They had left the castle less than two days before, and yet they had missed everything. They had no idea of the horrors that had befallen Aysel and all of the fairy-tale lands. She sighed and wondered how much longer these isolated woods would be kept safe from the rule of the guardians.

"Yesterday morning," she explained, "Queen Beryl seized the castle. She did it with the help of the guardians, who have been working for her all along. They were the spies in the castle… and they killed Raye and Jadeite. But they turned on Beryl, greedy to rule on their own, and now she's dead. I watched her die through the mirror. And the guardians are in control. The king and queen are being held captive, along with the princes." Her jaw trembled as she forced herself to utter the most hated words, "And they killed Endymion."

The dwarfs stared at her a long while, running their fingers along their belts.

"And also…" she continued, and they shifted uneasily. "The man you know as Lord Grimm… was also killed."

"No, tha' isn' possible!" growled Fiebrob.

"I'm sorry," Serena whispered. "But… there is one other thing… his brother, who everyone thought was dead, is still alive. He came back when Lord Grimm was killed, but… he's been captured too, and I assume he must be in the dungeons with the rest of them."

"How do you know all o' this?"

"I saw most of it happen myself."

"You're lucky to be alive, li'l miss."

Serena lowered her eyes. She didn't feel lucky at all.

"Well we've got to do somethin'," Gralogwid rumbled, gripping the handle of his ax. "I'm not gonna let this land be turned rotten by the same brutes that hurt our Snow White." The other dwarfs nodded, reaching for their weapons.

Exhausted, Serena sank into the grass. "It isn't that easy. You can't just charge down there, kill the guardians, and make everything all right again. There are guards—dozens, maybe hundreds of them. And the entire castle has been covered in a wall of thorns that must be impossible to get past. And the guardians themselves have magic, you know that, and I'm sure they've been concealing how strong they truly are."

But the dwarfs weren't listening to her. While Gralogwid stood and considered Serena's words, the other six set about placing the magic mirror back into the coffin's base. They covered it with the heavy lid and carefully hoisted Raye back onto her proper pedestal, glass dome and all. When they were finished, Serena had run out of reasons not to go.

Nodding as though he understood her concerns, Gralogwid said, "You've made it clear that we're gonna need a plan before we go on down to the castle—but we've still got to go. The longer those guardians 'ave control o' the castle, and our friends are locked in the basement, the worse off everyone's gonna be."

"But what can you do? There are only seven of you!"

"Right now there are," said the dwarf. "Do ya know where these dungeons are?"

"No—well, underneath the castle somewhere. I'm not sure. Why?"

"Tha's gonna be our first stop."

Serena laughed. "Are you serious? You have to go _inside_ the castle first to get there. There aren't any outside exits and if there were I'm sure they'd be heavily guarded!"

Kepple heaved a mining pick over one shoulder with an ironic grin. "There aren't any outside exits _yet, _li'l miss."

* * *

It didn't take much convincing for Serena to follow the dwarfs back to the castle. The very thought of being alone in the dark glen with nothing but the ominous trees and Raye's body for company had sent her running off after them. They had not invited her to join them and seemed neither glad nor disappointed at her company. They marched solemnly through broken branches and fallen logs still slick from the recent rain. Though the dwarfs' legs were short, they moved steadily through the forest, always in a straight line, and Serena found it difficult to keep up with them, more than once being met in the face with an outstretched branch or tripping over a mischievous tree root.

The sky was showing the first grayish lights of dawn when they broke through the edge of the forest and looked down on the silent streets of Aysel. The dwarfs paused and took in the sight of the thorn-encased castle, looming over the once cheerful town. Serena noticed that the fog that had come rolling in with the thorns had almost completely dissipated, and wondered if its only purpose had been to warn them of Lord Grimm's imminent death.

Gralogwid pointed the handle of his ax toward some invisible spot at the edge of town and grumbled, "There's the spot."

The dwarfs grunted agreement and that was all—they took off again.

Within minutes they had set up their workstation outside a garden wall and started digging. Wilopin disappeared into town for awhile, silent as a thief, and reappeared with his arms laden with shovels and buckets. Already the dwarfs had cleared a good-sized hole, working fast as machines. The soft soil gave way under their picks and shovels without resistance and Serena wondered just how Gralogwid had known what perfect spot to start at. The hole they made was about four feet in diameter, just wide enough for them to work in efficiently without wasting a single shovel-full. About six feet down they hit clay beneath the dirt, but it hardly slowed, much less deterred, them. They just kept swinging their tools with unrelenting speed, every move perfectly in sync with the next, as they burrowed down into the earth. Serena watched in awe as their tunnel curved toward the castle and soon Gralogwid, at the head of the line, had disappeared from view.

Wilopin, at the back of the line, pushed a bucket into Serena's arms. Taking a breath, Serena set about gathering any rocks and chunks of soil and roots that had gotten left behind, trying her best to keep up.

It was late afternoon when they hit stone. Or so Serena imagined. Their tunnel had gone so far from the entrance that all Serena could see of the world above was a faraway mist of light. The world underneath the town was cool and damp. The occasional rivulet of water wormed down the tunnel walls. Every now and then a trickle of sand would fall from the ceiling, landing on Serena's head and startling her into thinking the tunnel was about to cave in, but it never did and the dwarfs never showed concern. They also never slowed down, even as the light got farther and farther away and they were stuck in impenetrable darkness.

But the dark did slow Serena down, and so she stopped working, eventually using the bucket as a stool and watching the dark shadows of the dwarfs as they plowed on.

The sound of pick on stone was the first thing in hours that made the dwarfs cease their clockwork movements. Gralogwid tapped at the wall before them, shifting his tool left and right, up and down, finding more stone. A solid wall. Serena straightened, chewing the inside of her cheek. The sound of metal on rock was unmistakable and she knew what they'd found. They all knew what they'd found.

Those with shovels traded them for picks and hammers and their work continued. The rock fell away before them just as the dirt and clay had. Serena held her breath and blinked out the dust that got in her eyes.

The first stone was the hardest to knock through, but once it fell, its neighbors tumbled quickly after it. Soon a gaping hole was left where a rock wall had been, rimmed with dirty, dusky light.

The dwarfs strolled in through the entrance they had made without caution and Serena deserted her bucket and followed.

They were in a jail cell. Four stone walls and an iron door greeted them. A hint of candlelight gleamed through a tiny window in the door, casting deep shadows over the rock. It smelled like earth and sweat and urine and Serena gagged, clapping a mouth over her hand.

Then she saw Alex, standing mute and wide-eyed in the cell's far corner.

The dwarfs also saw the prisoner but ignored him, already scanning the cell for the best possible exit. When Qualakig and Wilopin started examining the steel door, Alex said, "I hope that I'm to be included in this rescue attempt."

He was filthy and unshaven and probably accounted for a good part of the cell's stench, but the polite humor in his question made Serena forget all that.

"Of course. Although this isn't so much a rescue attempt as an ambush."

Alex grinned and Serena knew he'd been hoping for just that.

A deafening clang brought their attention back to the door, which Qualakig had just pummeled with his hammer, leaving it dangling precariously on one hinge.

"Qualakig! There could be guards down here!"

"Then they'll be dead guards."

Serena frowned, but the dwarf did not seem to believe in discretion and with another swing of the hammer, the door crashed out into the stone hallway beyond.

"I don't think there are any guards," Alex comforted. "They've only been down twice since Beryl took over—once to bring water and once to bring more prisoners."

Serena glanced at him. "Did you see the prisoners?"

"No," he said, his jaw working angrily, "but I heard them." His expression made it clear that the voice he had heard had been that of Princess Briar Rose.

Serena turned back toward the door. The dwarfs had already ambled into the hallway and split up, knocking down iron doors as fast as they could.

"They don't waste any time, do they?" Alex mumbled.

Serena peeked her head inside the next doorway and saw two maids huddled together in the back corner, tears streaking their dirty faces. With a gentle smile at the girls, Serena turned back to Alex.

"You follow those four," she said, pointing down the hallway where four of the dwarfs had already broken down six doors. "Round up all the prisoners and explain to them we're here to help."

Alex nodded and turned away as Serena set about comforting the terrified maids. It wasn't as hard as she thought. Most of the prisoners recognized her and were more than ready to entrust their lives to a familiar face. They followed her down the hallway, helping her comfort more prisoners and coax them out of their cells until she had a small army trailing behind her. Or what would have been a small army if they'd had any strength at all. Or any weapons, for that matter.

She could not keep them quiet. As more people were released their racket grew, crying of both the good kind and bad, cheers at being reunited with loved ones, children wailing from confusion and hunger. She expected to hear guards come storming through the dungeon's labyrinth at any moment, but what she finally heard was her name being called above the commotion. Alex was jogging toward her, his own swarm of prisoners behind him.

"This is everyone from that end," Alex said as he pushed his way through the crowd. "We need to get them out of here."

"Good idea. Why don't you start showing them back to the tunnel?"

Surprised, Alex shook his head. "You take them, the women and children especially. Any men willing to fight can stay."

"I'm not going anywhere!"

"This is no place for a lady. It's for your own safety."

"You have no idea what I've been through, okay? I'm not about to bail out now."

"Serena! Darling Serena!"

Serena whipped around to see Queen Luna parading toward her with arms open. The queen wrapped her in a tender hug. The servants in the hallway tried their best to bow to the rightful queen, but it was difficult in the crowded hall and Luna was ignoring them anyway.

Returning the queen's hug, Serena felt a jolt of happiness, something she hadn't felt for days. Over Luna's shoulder she saw Artemis nearby, offering confident smiles and words of comfort to the crowd.

"Your Majesty, we have to get the women and children out of here. The dwarfs dug a tunnel that will take you outside of the city. You have to lead these people out, do you understand?"

"Yes, dear, of course. And the men?"

"Anyone who can fight will be needed."

She nodded, having expected as much, and turned toward her husband. But he'd already heard and within moments Luna was sweeping the women and children and elderly out to freedom. Serena was grateful to see them go, feeling that if she succeeded at nothing else, at least this had been accomplished.

And then she saw Lita and Amy rushing toward her, Nephlite, Zoicite, and Malachite in their wake. There was an abundance of hugs and more joyful tears, but it was Malachite's pleading voice that carried above all the others.

"Mina—have you seen Mina?"

Serena looked up at his frightened gray eyes and thought back to the last time she had seen Mina, hiding in a small closet with baby Cytherea in her arms, planning her escape. "Not in a long time, but… I think she might have escaped. She had Cytherea with her and she had a plan for getting out…" She trailed off and couldn't tell if Malachite's expression was hopeful or desperate.

"And has Endymion returned?" Zoicite questioned, clasping Amy's hand.

Serena's heart clogged her throat and she looked away, guilt crawling up her spine. She hadn't even thought to tell Luna.

Briar Rose appeared out of the darkness of the tunnel, ghostlike in her torn and dirt-stained wedding dress.

"Prince Endymion is dead."

To Serena's ears, Briar Rose was cruel for saying the words, but she was still grateful that the princess had saved her from having to say them herself.

"Dead?" whispered Nephlite.

Serena nodded.

"How?"

"I apologize, but we haven't the time—" Alex started.

"Murdered by the guardians," Serena interrupted. "Same as Jadeite."

"Well tha's the last of 'em," came Kepple's voice from the distance.

"Wonderful, because anyone who is unable to fight needs to get out of here immediately," Alex said. "The exit is this way." He was trying not to look at Briar Rose, but she could not take her eyes from him.

"I'm not leaving you," said Lita, gripping Nephlite's hand. "I can stay and fight."

"No!" barked Nephlite.

"No, Lita, you can't," Serena confirmed. "I have a task for you. And Amy, too. You need to find Mina and tell her what's happening. And someone has to let the villagers know their royal family is safe and working to overthrow the guardians."

"You mean Beryl."

"Beryl's already dead. There isn't time to explain, just go."

"Beryl's—"

"Listen to her," Nephlite murmured, kissing Lita's temple. "I will fight better knowing you're safe."

"Don't you dare die," she said, clutching the front of his tunic, to which she received a nod and a kiss. Zoicite and Amy shared their own good byes and Alex explained how to find the tunnel—Jacob Grimm, waiting at the edge of the crowd, would lead them out. Serena refused to go, to Alex's dismay.

As Briar Rose was ushered toward safety, Alex stopped her with a near undetectable finger on her laced sleeve. "I am glad to see you are unharmed, princess."

She looked at him with the practiced gaze of royalty and said, "You had better not die either," before being led silently away.

"Lady Serena, are you sure you won't go with them?" asked Zoicite.

He was met with a stern glare. "I'm staying," Serena declared. "I have a personal vendetta against the guardians."

"We _all_ do. It's just… you don't know how to fight."

"I won't be in the way, if that's what you're worried about. I can be useful. I know more about the guardians and their plans than anyone here."

"I hope that's true," said Malachite, folding his arms. "Because I do believe this is the point in which we make a plan."

They stood around looking at each other in the dimly lit stone hallway—seven dwarfs, three princes, a royal guard, and the Chosen One.

Finally, Gralogwid swung his axe over one shoulder. "I say we storm the place."

"Easy to say when you have a weapon," said Nephlite. "The rest of us would be easy targets up there."

"And remember—it isn't just the guardians we need to worry about. Beryl brought a slew of guards with her and I'm sure they're all under the guardians' control now. They probably haven't even been told that Beryl is dead."

"Serena's absolutely right. We can't charge up there blindly. We need to be prepared. We need weapons and a concrete plan."

"The northwest weapons room isn't far from the entrance to the dungeons."

"The entrance to the dungeons will be well-guarded."

"The dwarfs can go first, deal with anyone we meet."

"It will send up an alarm if there are dead bodies lying around."

"We'll try our best to stay discreet," said Malachite, "but an alarm may be inevitable."

"And after we've reached the weapons room? What then?"

With a glance at the dwarfs, Malachite shrugged. "_Then_ we storm the place."

* * *

_Please review._


	31. Storming the Castle

This update dedicated to DaBlackRose, who is designing my webpage, and totally and completely rocks my socks off.

And a hundred thanks to PhantasyStar for her fantastic editing and assistance!

And to all reviewers who make my day every time.

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 31: Storming the Castle  
_When it was completely dark outside, the owners of the cottage returned.  
They were seven dwarfs who searched in the mountains for minerals with their picks and shovels._  
from Snow White

The entrance to the dungeons was, in fact, unguarded. As the party slipped into the castle's hallways that still thrived with thorns, they were surprised to meet no one at all. Silence hung in the air with the thick, drooping vines, interrupted only by the shuffle of boots as they made their way to the armory. Serena followed behind the dwarfs, careful to follow in their footsteps and avoid the thorns below—she was still barefoot. After twenty minutes of creeping, the group reached the weapons room without event.

The door was open, slashed vines hanging forlornly along the frame. The room itself was just as Serena remembered it. The quietly shifting briars gave life to the stone walls. The toppled suits of armor lay in broken heaps. Weapons and shields littered the floor. Serena recognized the shield that Puss in Boots had hid beneath last time she was in the room. She saw the heavy blue curtain barely clinging to its iron rings, and the open stairway it revealed leading up into the tower. Shadows mingling with a pale beam of sunlight drifted down the stairs.

In the far corner of the room was Jacob Grimm's magic mirror—nothing left but a dingy wood frame and shards of broken glass.

Serena nearly choked on the grief that welled up in her. Last time she'd been in this room, she could still smell Endymion's blood. She could still taste the sweat from his lips. The little beam of light coming down the stairwell captivated her—Endymion's ghost, returning from the prison of the tower and death.

"You know what's up there?" Malachite whispered behind her.

Serena's heart leapt. She could still feel the weight of Endymion's body against her, still warm from living. Gulping, she nodded and licked her lips, then turned to Malachite with glistening eyes. "A spinning wheel."

Malachite nodded, an ignorant smile on his mouth. "The same spinning wheel that Mina used to spin straw into gold," he explained, but Serena was not listening. She walked away and pretended to examine a short sword. The princes and Alex also set to choosing their weapons. Serena decided that the sword was as good as anything and looked around at her companions. The dwarfs, who seemed perfectly content with their axes and picks, were huddled respectfully around the broken mirror, gazing into the reflection-less shards of glass.

Serena hoped that Raye was protecting the fifth magic mirror well.

They all chose swords, except Zoicite who was drawn to a longbow and quiver that he filled up with scattered arrows.

Slipping his sword into a sheath that didn't quite fit, Alex muttered, "Let the storming begin."

* * *

Serena knew that she should have been afraid, wandering through the empty hallways of the forlorn castle. She knew that the guardians or soldiers could be around any corner, and that they would not hesitate to kill her and her companions. But she wasn't afraid. Rather, she felt like an empty shell, just as empty as the castle corridors. There was no place for fear inside of her.

There was room for sadness, though, at the suffering everyone had felt the past few days. And anger. Anger at those who had caused this. Anger at those who had used her for their evil plans. Anger at those who had murdered Endymion. This was what kept her moving through the hallways, her foraged short sword in her fist.

She was determined to find the guardians and, if she had the power to do so, she would see them dead. And then she would go home. These were her only thoughts. If she died trying to accomplish them, so be it. She was sad for her mother, who would never know what had happened to her little princess daughter. But her mother knew of the curse—she knew everything. Perhaps she would figure out Serena's fate if Serena never made it home.

Serena felt awkwardly loud beside her companions who were all used to hunting and trekking silently through forests and mountains. She shuffled along in her black dress that was stained with sweat and blood. Her swollen feet made their way through the castle, ever-fearful of the protruding thorns. For a long time the group's slow, deliberate advances seemed unnecessary. There appeared to be no one in the castle to discover them.

This was not true, of course, which they realized as they neared the throne room. A new sound mingled with their footsteps, a distant mumbling that grew louder until it was one reverberating voice, magnified by some unknown magic so that it filled the hallways with its words.

It was Andrew, the Guardian of Romance, who spoke.

Serena shuddered when she recognized his voice, the voice that had once been so calming and kind to her, from the elf she had deemed such an ally. Seiya had always been cold toward her, as he was toward everyone. Hota, while good-natured, had seemed aloof and always interested in something else, something new or exciting. But Andrew had taken a keen interest in Serena, the Chosen One, and her well-being in the world of the storytellers. She now knew why. He had been using her.

"It is a great tragedy that fills us all with remorse," Andrew was saying. Serena could hear him clearly as they crept into the servant's hallway that surrounded three sides of the throne room, separated only by the occasional pillar and a heavy blue drapery. "Know that we are doing all we can to find Her Majesty's murderer, and when that murderer is found, she will be dealt a swift and terrible punishment. And we are not far from discovering her whereabouts—as you know, she is likely still within the very walls of this castle. Know that she is not dangerous. She is only a girl who tricked the queen's soft heart into trusting her. Our queen's kindness became her undoing." Andrew paused, faking sorrow.

When Serena and her companions reached the end of the hallway, it was Alex who was brave enough to peek through the curtains. He moved one aside with a surgeon's patience and held an eye to the opening.

"Know that nothing has changed. Our objectives remain the same," Andrew continued. "We have successfully captured Aysel and we will rule this land. As Her Majesty's trusted advisers, the other guardians and myself will assume the throne. We know that Her Majesty promised each of you great wealth, plunders from this kingdom, and we will follow through on her promise. And each of you will be entitled to high ranks or honor—a worthy gift for being loyal, brave, and strong. These promises will not be forgotten even as we mourn the loss of our beautiful queen."

Alex replaced the curtain and nodded at the others. There was a door at the end of the hallway that led back into the castle's main corridors. Alex nudged it open, peering around to check that there were no guards before slipping out of the servant's hall.

"About 120 men, all armed," Alex said when they gathered around him in the hallway. "Plus the elf, giving the speech."

"What about Seiya and Hota?" Serena asked.

Alex shook his head. "I did not see them, though they could have been behind the crowd."

"No, if they were there, they would have been on the platform," Serena mused, wondering where the other guardians could be. "Hota was with Andrew when they kidnapped Jacob and Briar Rose, and last I saw Seiya was in Beryl's—Luna and Artemis's chambers, right before the mirror was destroyed and Beryl died. Maybe he's still there, cleaning up the mess?"

"Possibly…" Malachite muttered, arms folded. "But that was hours ago. We shouldn't count on anything—they could be anywhere."

They peered around, as if the guardians could emerge from the very walls that surrounded them, but the hallway seemed as deserted as the rest of the castle. They could still hear Andrew's voice from the throne room.

"Then we'll deal with them when we find them," said Nephlite. "Right now we have 120 other men to worry about. And we've gotten lucky that they're all in one place, and all unsuspecting of an attack. We should take advantage of this."

"120 of them and 12 of us," muttered Zoicite, his eyes scanning the group.

"10 to 1 soun' like fine odds to me," Qualakig grunted, hefting an ax onto his shoulder. Though the dwarfs had maintained quiet since they'd entered the castle, it was clear they were becoming impatient.

"Getting rid of the guardians needs to be our top priority," said Alex. "Without anyone to lead them, Beryl's guards will be in upheaval. Beryl did not like to bestow power on others—she felt easily threatened. I doubt there are any among them who rank high enough to regain control of the throne and capture loyalty from the rest once the guardians are gone. We would have little trouble ridding the kingdom of these intruders."

"But if we charge in there now, we'll have no chance of reaching Andrew," said Nephlite. "By the time we got close enough to attack him, he would have fled for sure, and then they would be alerted to our presence."

"If we could get close to him at all. 120 men is nothing to scoff at."

"So then we do not charge. We wait for him to come out."

Slowly, Alex nodded, his eyes faraway with ideas. "Yes, that will be best. How many main entrances are there to this room?

"Three," answered Malachite, "excluding doorways that lead into the servants hallway, there are three entrances. The main one in the back that leads toward the southern entrance, and two up by the thrones."

"The guardian will likely use one of those two," said Alex, "Would you agree?"

"I would think so."

"So we will split up, six to each door, and when he leaves the room we will ambush him. Then we will only have the other guardians and 120 confused soldiers to worry about."

"Piece o' pie," said Vlonterp, cinching his belt tighter. "Lead the way."

* * *

Serena found herself creeping through more vine-laden hallways between Alex and Zoicite, trailing behind three of the dwarfs. The rest of the party had skirted around the other side of the throne room, eager to get to the other door. They stayed silent, always cautious, though they could hear Andrew's speech continuing in the room just a few walls away.

The door to the throne room was set into an alcove, flanked on either side by more doors leading into the servant's corridors. The men separated and slipped into the hallways until Andrew's speech was over and the unsuspecting guardians left the throne room. Serena trailed behind them, slowed down by her dress which kept snagging on thorns. But before she could join her companions in their hiding place, she glanced down a dark hallway that extended back toward the guestrooms, and froze. At first she thought it was only a trick of the light that had shown her a slender silver blade among a clump of vines down that hallway, but as her eyes strained she knew that what she saw was real.

A single abandoned sword lay in the foliage.

She recognized the hilt immediately.

It was Endymion's sword.

"Lady, what is it? Hurry!" hissed Alex, holding the door for her.

Serena shook her head. "It's all right. I just thought—I'll be no help in the fighting. I thought perhaps I would hide somewhere until it was over, so that I would not be in your way."

Alex nodded and it was clear that he'd thought she was in the way from the beginning. "It may be for the best. You know a safe place?"

She nodded. "Be careful."

Zoicite appeared behind Alex, frowning. He was not so keen on separating but Serena was careful not to look at him. "We will meet up as soon as possible," she said, and then turned and swept down the hallway. When she looked over her shoulder a moment later, the door was shut and she was alone in the vast corridor. Gulping, she focused on the sword. She was still holding the short sword she had chosen in the weapons room, but she felt no attachment to it. It was only metal. Endymion's sword was something else altogether.

As she came closer she could see dried blood along the blade's edge. Stooping, she took the hilt into her hand. It was heavier than her short sword. The hilt was larger, but the carvings fit her hand and leant themselves to a tighter grip.

She slipped her own short sword into the scabbard at her hip and held Endymion's sword with both hands. It gave her the strangest feeling of calm, as if Endymion was still at her side, watching over her. She knew that she was not proficient with a sword, but she hoped that this weapon would protect her just as its master would have. She felt a surge of confidence. With this sword, she would defeat the guardians and avenge Endymion's death.

Because that is what a fairy-tale heroine would have done.

Mumbled words broke into Serena's thoughts. Gasping, she looked up, but the hallway was still deserted. She turned back toward the throne room—all doors were closed. She could imagine her companions hunched in anticipation, awaiting the ambush. Andrew's voice droned on.

Serena turned back to the sound of footsteps. The voice that accompanied them was deep and sullen and she immediately knew that Seiya was approaching.

Holding her breath, Serena slipped into the nearest door, leaving it slightly ajar. This was good, she told herself. With any luck, Hota would be with Seiya as well, and then they would have all three guardians in one spot. Perhaps they could kill them all in one fell swoop, before raising alarm.

Leaning against a wall, she surveyed the room. It had once been a sitting room. A lovely sofa sat in one corner, against a wall of finely furnished windows. A grand piano faced the far wall, framed on all sides by tapestries. Everything in the room had been ravished by the thorns, but the Serena was immune to the sight.

She held her ear close to the door, listening.

"…tunnel led beyond the town wall," Seiya was saying. "I'm sure it was dug by dwarfs." There was a pause when Serena heard nothing but footsteps, and then, "Yes, every cell was empty. I told you we shouldn't have left the dungeons unguarded. We were too careless."

Another pause and Serena began to make out Hota's high-pitched voice, too quiet at first to make out but sporadic words.

"The men will be disheartened when they hear that the royal family has escaped," Seiya said. "Perhaps we should tell them they've all been executed and disposed of."

"…hardly believable." Hota's voice became clear and Serena was startled to realize they were already right outside her door. She gulped, wondered what she would do if they checked that room, but they walked by without pause.

"But if we could convince them of it, we could insight more fear and respect from them."

"They will fear us enough if ever we give them reason to."

"Then are we only to tell them that everyone escaped, from right beneath our noses? How weak we shall look."

Serena peered through the door's sliver of an opening, watching the two guardians approach the throne room—and her hiding companions. Surely her friends knew that they were there, could hear the guardians from behind their closed doors. Would they attack them as they got nearer, or hold their ground and wait?

Endymion's sword felt heavy in her hand and Serena thought, briefly, that she could end this now. Her grip tightened. How easy it would be to rush at them from behind, stab Seiya in the back, cut Hota down in mid-flight. She could be a hero. There was no one around to save either of them, and her companions would come to her aid if she called for them.

Seiya and Hota continued down the hall, ignorant of her plotting.

Serena grit her teeth. Her chance was slipping away with every step they took. She cursed her lack of courage. She tried to call up her anger, her bitterness, her hatred of these two guardians, but suddenly there was fear. The fear that had been so absent before filled her arms and turned her legs to lead.

She tried to push her feet out the door. She imagined herself raising the weapon and taking them both before they had any chance to retaliate.

But she could not.

She could not bring herself to open the door. Could not bring herself to raise the sword.

What would Endymion have thought? She had only one purpose now, to avenge him. Would she fail him now, when all else was lost?

Her eyes shut. Seiya's footsteps grew quieter. They must be near the doors now, near her companions. Would they attack? Would she join them?

"At least I have some good news," Hota said.

Seiya's footsteps ceased. "And what is that?"

"In the room where we discovered Briar Rose and the lost Grimm brother…"

"Where you destroyed the mirror."

"Yes. There was something else we found. A stairway that led to a tower."

"So?"

"Prince Endymion was in the tower."

Serena's breath caught. Her heart tightened.

"Or rather, his body was. It seems that you managed to kill the blasted prince after all."

Seiya grunted—a sound of approval.

Serena leaned against a wall, sick to her stomach. Never had she felt so cowardly.

Then a quiet mewing startled her and there was a small gray cat making his way out from beneath the grand piano. "Puss in Boots," Serena murmured as the cat jumped onto the piano's bench and began licking its paws.

"They must have overlooked you when Jacob was captured," she whispered, beckoning to the cat with her fingers.

Puss glanced up at her with his garnet red eyes, tilted his head, and then turned and jumped onto the piano's ivory keys.

The untuned piano rang with one loud, echoing clamor. Withholding a cry, Serena turned back to the door—the sound was as loud as a churchbell in the otherwise silent castle. She panted, the off-key noise still bouncing off the walls, and listened for the return of the guardians.

Frightened of the sound, Puss jumped down and hid beneath the piano again.

It was not long before footsteps were in the hallway. Tightening her grip on the sword's hilt, Serena backed away, terrified eyes glued to the door. She prayed that it was her companions coming for her.

The footsteps stopped on the other side of the door. Serena tried to shrink into a corner. Slowly, the door was pushed open by the tip of a sword. Serena's hands ached from gripping Endymion's sword too tightly. Then her eyes met a black teardrop tattoo and a stormy gaze.

Seiya stared back at her. She could not tell if he was surprised. Over his shoulder, Hota hovered on fragile dragonfly wings, one eyebrow quirked as her gaze swept over the Chosen One.

Her limbs beginning to tremble, Serena forced herself to breathe. She pushed herself away from the wall and barely loosened her grip on the sword—_barely._ Looking between the two guardians she began to realize how stupid she was for not striking when the perfect opportunity had presented itself.

"Well…" Hota drawled. "I wondered if we might see you again."

Serena did not trust her voice and could not respond. She pursed her lips, steeling herself for what was to come. She tried to play out the impending fight in her mind. Seiya would attack with his sword and she would attempt to dodge. If she was lucky, he would leave himself open for a counterattack. Hota would be harder to hit—so small and quick. But they would both underestimate Serena.

No, she knew that wasn't true. They knew exactly what she was capable of, and defeating either of them by sword was not it.

But she had to try.

"Why are you doing this?" she hissed.

Hota folded her arms over her chest. "Why does everyone feel compelled to ask that? Shouldn't it be obvious? Honestly, Lady Serena, if you were given the opportunity to be powerful, renowned, and wealthy, to have complete domination over all the land, to be worshiped and admired by every living creature—wouldn't you take it?"

"No."

Pressing her lips, Hota nearly smiled. "Yes you would. Everyone would. We guardians have lived in the shadows of the storytellers for far too long. It is our time to rule. It is our time to make the stories what we wish them to be."

"And you wish them to be full of evil and death?"

"There will be ample tragedy and drama, of course." Now she truly was smiling. "But Andrew is still around, so I suppose he'll try to keep up some semblance of romance."

"Andrew knows nothing of romance! The three of you are destroying every morsel of true love in this land. Killing Raye and Jadeite, trying to lure Endymion and Briar Rose into a false destiny, and then killing—killing—" Her voice choked her and she looked away as tears brimmed in her eyes.

"If Andrew were here, he might care," Seiya muttered. His sword was still poised to hold open the door, but he slowly withdrew it and stepped into the room, his gray eyes scanning for hidden enemies.

Gathering herself, Serena swiped at her eyes with her sleeve and felt her hatred for the guardians boiling inside her. Her very skin crawled to see them and to see Seiya so thoughtlessly holding the sword that had no doubt slain her prince.

"Did you assist in freeing the prisoners?" Hota asked.

"Yes."

The fairy nodded. Seiya's emotionless eyes were on Serena again and she could tell that he was unconcerned about the sword in her hand.

"Smart girl, going to the dwarfs like that. I see that we made a tactical error. I assure you it won't happen again." Hota's wings fluttered and after a long moment of analyzing Serena with those piercing purple-black eyes, she said, "I think I will offer you a bargain, Lady Serena."

"I think I will decline it."

"I believe you have not come this far on your own. I do not think the dwarfs tunneled all the way into the dungeons and then left you to fend for yourself, nor do I think the princes of the castle would have abandoned you without making a stand for their home and kingdom. And so, I offer you this. Tell us the whereabouts of your friends and we will spare your life. If you are very good, we may even offer you a position under our new rule. Scullery maid, perhaps."

"I would never betray them."

"Then we have no use of you and will kill you now." Hota watched as Serena straightened her spine and lifted Endymion's sword into what she thought might be a defensive pose.

"Then kill me."

Seiya's sword darted forward, slicing into Serena's upper arm. With a cry, she stumbled backwards—more from surprise than pain.

"Do not think it will be a difficult task, or that we would hesitate to do so." Hota's chipper voice never faltered. "That was your first warning. I propose the same bargain again."

Serena shook her head and locked her eyes on Seiya's sword, concentrating, hoping she could dodge it the next time. "Never."

The sword whipped toward her again, cutting into her other arm. She yelped, no less startled than the first time. She'd barely had time to move and he'd anticipated and acted on it. It occurred to her then that all the concentration and courage in the world could not help her in this fight. His skill was simply too far beyond her.

She felt blood seeping into the fabric of her sleeves, but her body did not register the pain.

"I will not ask again, Lady Serena."

"And I will not answer again!" she screamed, lunging forward with all her strength. She swung Endymion's sword down from above her head, aiming at Seiya's right shoulder.

Seiya sidestepped and smacked Serena from behind with the flat edge of his sword. She cried and fell to her hands and knees. A thorn punctured her palm and she pulled away, dropping the sword to cradle her hand.

But the feel of sharp metal on the back of her neck froze her. Seiya pressed the point of his sword just hard enough that it broke the first layer of skin.

"Where are your friends?"

Serena closed her eyes and took a long breath, believing it to be her last. She pictured Endymion before her and thought that at least she would be with him soon.

Something whizzed by her ear and then she heard Seiya's strangled gasp and the sword was gone. Serena opened her eyes.

Through the door stood Zoicite with bow poised, already reaching for another arrow. "Serena, move!"

She grabbed Endymion's sword and scurried away, just as Alex charged into the room. His sword clashed with Seiya's, who had already recovered from the surprise attack. Zoicite's arrow jutted from his left shoulder—it must have barely missed his heart—but Seiya fought as though it was not even there. Steel rang against steel as they pushed their way back and forth in the small parlor.

Hota hovered near the piano, holding both hands in front of her, following the paths of the swords. Her lips were moving and it was clear she was trying to conjure a spell to aid Seiya's plight, but every time a dark cloud formed around her fingers, one of Zoicite's arrows flew toward her and sent her fluttering away. Serena crouched against the wall, her sword forgotten. Three dwarfs came charging into the room, picks and axes swinging. Hota aimed a crackling cloud of magic at Zoicite, hovering high enough to avoid the dwarfs' weapons as she let the burst of magic fly. Zoicite threw himself to the ground. The magic hit the wall behind him and the vines that were there shriveled into blackened twigs.

All three dwarfs paled at the sight—ever distrustful of magic. When a second cloud started sparking around Hota's fingertips and she sharpened her gaze on the closest dwarf, he took off running into the hallway. His companions wasted no time in following him, and the fairy followed. Zoicite followed her.

Serena glanced at the duel between Alex and Seiya. They seemed locked in a draw. Their skills rivaled each other, each quick and graceful and strong. Seiya was hindered by his wounded shoulder, but Alex had not eaten a proper meal in days. They seemed perfectly matched.

Serena considered jumping to Alex's aid but knew that she would be more a distraction than anything else. And so, with a breath to gather her wits, she clambered to her feet and rushed into the hallway.

She crashed into Andrew.

Stumbling backward, Serena was barely able to keep from falling to the ground. The elf stared at her with surprise that he quickly covered with his signature impish grin.

"Ah, Lady Serena, I should have known you would somehow be involved in all this. I always told the other guardians not to underestimate you."

She ignored him, her eyes fearfully scanning the sight before her.

Behind Andrew stood at least three dozen guards. Near the front of the crowd, Zoicite and the three dwarfs had already been bound at the wrists and were being jostled together with swords poised to slay them at the first movement. And more guards were streaming into the hallway from the throne room.

Serena took an unsteady step backward, but with a flick of Andrew's wrist, two guards rushed forward and grabbed her arms. Ropes were tightened around her wrists, but she was in too much shock to feel them. Had it been only minutes ago that she had felt so confident in her companions and their plan to overthrow the guardians? Had they ever stood a chance to begin with? Was this all _her _fault?

Andrew peered through the doorway into the parlor where the sounds of sword fighting could still be heard. He nodded to a few more guards and they stormed in. There was scuffling and strangled grunts. It was not long before the guards returned, dragging Alex between them. Seiya followed. Sweat on his forehead was the only sign that he had exerted himself in the battle.

"Take them into the throne room. We will administer punishment there," Andrew commanded. As Serena was guided down the hallway, she saw Hota floating around the crowd, looking equally exhausted until she landed on Andrew's shoulder and scowled.

"There will not be any more uprisings," she hissed into his ear. Though Serena was close behind them, she could barely hear her small voice over the trumping of boots.

"No," said Andrew. "We will make a fine example of this lot. No one else will dare interfere with our plans."

Serena seethed. For the first time she felt throbbing in her arms where Seiya had cut her with his sword, but she suppressed the pain and replaced it with disgust. She tried not to feel fear, and it was made easier by feeding off as much anger as she could manage. She tried to remind herself that there was still hope. Though they had captured this half of their band, there was still Malachite, Nephlite, and the four remaining dwarfs hidden on the other side of the throne room. Certainly they would think of another plan. Surely they would find some way to overthrow the guardians and rid the castle of these intruders.

But as soon as she was pushed into the throne room, that hope crumbled to the marble floor. There were the rest of her companions, kneeling in the center of the room—bruised and bloodied and bound like the rest of them. Serena's heart shrank. Her captors forced her to kneel beside them, along with the remaining prisoners, as the guardians once again took their place on the platform at the front of the room. Seiya looked just as bored as always, but Hota wore a smug grin and Andrew nodded contentedly as Serena and her allies were herded before him. When the room had quieted, Andrew clasped his hands behind his back and addressed the soldiers.

"Men, you have succeeded in a great feat and again your bravery shall be rewarded. You already realize the significance of these captures—the sons of the royal family who had escaped from our dungeon and attempted to reclaim this kingdom away from us. Be proud of your victory today, for it is the greatest victory we have yet to claim."

Serena withheld a snort. 120 of their men against her 12 hardly seemed like a great accomplishment.

"And what more, you have captured one member of the enemy who will be more valuable to us than any other." Smirking, Andrew gestured at Serena. Her heart jumped into her throat as the two men at her side pulled her to her feet and led her onto the platform. "Though she looks harmless and innocent, this girl is one of our enemy's most dangerous assets. She is the Chosen One, selected by the late storyteller Grimm to save this land from certain corruption." He chuckled and some of the men smiled grimly at the thought. "She is, in fact, the very same witch who murdered Her Majesty, Queen Beryl."

A ripple ran through the crowd but Serena did not know if it was fear or bitterness or surprise. Either way, she felt many cold eyes focused on her. She squirmed against her captors.

"I promised that she would be found, and she has. I promised that she would pay for the crimes she has committed, and she shall." Andrew's voice echoed hollowly in the vast throne room. He approached Serena. The guards at her sides forced her to kneel before him so that she had to crane her neck to see his gleeful emerald eyes. He reached forward his long, pale fingers and tilted her head back by the chin.

"So, men, how shall we punish this traitor?"

* * *

_Please review._


	32. The Last Guardian

Hey everyone! I am so sorry this chapter took so long to get out. I was hoping to have a big announcement when I posted it but the big announcement is taking longer than expected.

BUT – I will be posting a BRAND NEW story within the next week (one parter, so there won't be any cliff hangers, though I know how much you all LOVE cliff hangers). Anyway, I hope that gets me off the hook. 

Thanks to Phantasy Star, as always, for her suggestions and editing.

And thanks to all reviewers!

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 32: The Last Guardian  
_Thus they were punished with blindness for the rest  
of their lives due to their wickedness and malice._  
from Cinderella

Serena shuddered at the feel of Andrew's fingers beneath her chin. His words echoed in the near-silent ballroom as the crowd of soldiers peered at her with hungry eyes. _How shall we punish this traitor?_ She met the gazes of Malachite, Nephlite, and Zoicite, who all stared back with shame and helplessness. Squirming against her captors only forced the ropes around her wrists to cut into her skin, but every time Andrew moved toward her she couldn't help but flinch away. 

"I say we have her beheaded," suggested Hota, a blur of purple in the corner of Serena's eye. 

"How does that sound to you, gentlemen?" Andrew asked. His gleeful voice sickened Serena, but the leering grins of the armored men sickened her more. Even setting her eyes on her friends—the princes and Alex and the dwarfs—made her stomach churn. No hope came from that direction. They all knew that Serena was being made an example. Her fate would eventually be theirs.

Serena heard a sword drawn from its scabbard behind her. The harsh sound sent a chill racing down her spine. 

"Easy enough," Seiya growled. His footsteps rumbled on the platform and the audience came to life—cheering at Serena's death sentence.

She squeezed her eyes shut. In her final moments she thought of Endymion, but even the image of his handsome face brought her no comfort. Earlier she thought that death would be okay, if only she could be with him, but now she knew that was not true. 

She wanted to live. Endymion would have wanted her to live.

A shadow passed over her and she could feel Seiya's presence. Her breath caught. Andrew's clutching fingers released her chin and her head fell limply to her chest. She tried to turn away from Seiya, tried to curl herself into nonexistence, but the guards held her tight and her bound arms were given no mercy. 

The men were louder still, their cheers resounding in Serena's head until she could no longer hear her own heartbeat. The cool touch of steel settled on her neck as Seiya found his target. A whimper escaped her. Every muscle tensed and tears began to drop despite her attempts to withhold them.

He raised the sword. She could picture him hovering over her, the sword poised over his head, ready to fall. Then she pictured her mother and wished that she could see her one more time, wished she would have told her she loved her just once more.

Waiting for the sword to fall, Serena silently bid her farewells.

The room hushed.

The thundering in Serena's ears fell away. 

"What is that noise?" Seiya barked. Serena thought she heard him shuffling away and found herself gasping for breath.

She opened her eyes, looked around. Her gaze was blurry at first, her entire body was trembling, but slowly she was able to focus and see the crowd turned toward the southern entrance of the ballroom. 

Andrew approached the edge of the platform, straining his eyes toward the hallway that led to the castle's entrance.

And then Serena heard it. A horn—somewhere nearby and so loud that it shook the castle walls. Many of the soldiers reached for their weapons.

"Is that a bugle?" Andrew asked.

Seiya threw a glare at the elf.

The horn sounded again, closer, louder.

"It sounds like a call to battle," Hota suggested. "But who would have the nerve…?"

The horn blasted once more and was followed by the slamming open of the castle's gigantic wood and iron doors. The soldiers tensed. The men holding Serena loosened their grip.

The hallway pounded with the sound of hundreds of feet hurtling toward the ballroom and a moment later the door burst open and a throng of people charged ruthlessly into the waiting soldiers. 

It was the townspeople. At their head stormed Mina, a short sword flailing.

The guardians started screaming orders to the guards. Within seconds, steel met iron and wood—swords and daggers clashing with shovels and skillets.

Serena gawked, too weak to move as the bloodshed began. The townspeople were as ruthless as the soldiers. It was inconceivable to see these peaceful people wielding their weapons without mercy, striking at eyes and chests and groins without hesitation. And yet Serena felt pride welling up inside her to see them fighting to reclaim their kingdom from the murderers who would otherwise enslave them. 

Serena screamed as she was grabbed from behind, but soon felt her ropes being slashed away. She turned to see Alex at her side, sword drawn and a knife held between his teeth. She did not know if he'd escaped with assistance or managed to set himself free—she would not doubt the latter. She had never been so happy to see him.

"Take this," he ordered, removing the knife from his teeth and pushing the handle into her palm. And then he was gone. She watched him disappear into the crowd, sword dispersing guards left and right. 

Serena stumbled against a wall, trying to regain strength in her legs. Her eyes scanned the chaos of the room, already strewn with bodies. She caught sight of Lita wielding a butcher knife with Nephlite fighting at her side. Amy and Zoicite were holding their own not far away. Malachite had made his way to Mina and she somehow managed to match his sword swing for swing.

Then she saw Andrew not far from the platform, his back to her. The knife in her hand became heavy. Her palms were sweating. The elf held a sword in his hand but he was not using it. Rather, he just stood there shouting orders at the soldiers, furiously trying to organize the men amidst the chaos.

Serena crept toward him, hardly aware of what she was doing. She gripped the knife. Her heart pounded in her head, but the roar of the battle was louder still. Her cheeks were damp and salty from her tears but they, too, were forgotten. 

She had lost her chance to kill Seiya and Hota before. She would not lose this chance.

"Serena, look out!"

She turned toward the shrieking voice just in time to see a hairy, snarling beast towering over her. Serena screamed and stumbled back over the edge of the platform, landing on the marble floor with a pain that shot up her spine. The wolf squinted his beady eyes, his huge teeth dripping with saliva as he stood up on his powerful hind legs. Serena found herself frozen, powerless before his looming form. He crouched as if to jump and she screamed again, covering her face with her arm, knife forgotten. 

The wolf lunged—right over her head. Turning, Serena saw him tackle a soldier and dig his fangs into the man's throat. Grimacing, she pulled away.

"Wow, Miss Serena, that was so lucky!" Chibi Chibi crouched down before her, her bright red cloak dragging on the ground. "Good thing me and William were here to save you!"

"William?" 

The little girl smiled up at her, red curls bouncing, as if she did not even see the violence going on around her. "Yep, William is my best friend in the whole world. Don't you remember him? He was pretending to be my grandmother that one day when you showed up and we both thought he was going to eat us, but it turned out to just be a game he likes to play with kids sometimes. Grandmother was in on the whole thing too, isn't that just a hoot? Turns out he's completely harmless and gentle!"

Serena risked a glance at William and saw that there was little left of the soldier he'd attacked. Just a gory mess. 

Harmless and gentle, indeed.

And over his shoulder, not ten feet past, were all three guardians. They were hovering at the side door. Andrew and Hota appeared to be talking at once—plotting to take back control, no doubt—but Seiya stood grimly watching the fight with one hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Thank William for me, will you?" Serena said, effectively cutting Chibi Chibi off in the middle of another monologue. Climbing to her feet, she headed toward the guardians, dodging any swords that came her way. 

Most of the soldiers were engaged in duels and Serena thought she might be able to get through them without notice. She imagined herself sneaking up on the guardians from within the throng of people. From the midst of the fighting she could not tell who was winning, all she could see was a blur of swords and axes. Picks and blades. Armor and blood.

A hand grasped her wrist. Lurching around, Serena found herself eye-to-eye with a snarling guard. His grip tightened. His lips curled into a lecherous grin. Instinct prompted Serena to slash at him with the knife. The blade pierced his leather jerkin and she felt it puncture flesh. The man cried out in pain and sent his raised sword cutting toward her. 

Another sword choked off its path. The man released her wrist to face the new enemy and Serena glanced at her savior—first noticing a white blouse and leather vest, both caked with drying blood, and then a tri-tipped hat with a large peacock plume. And beneath the hat was thick, wavy auburn hair.

"Molly?"

Molly took the opportunity to run the man through at the stomach before turning to Serena, breathless and flushed. "Serena! I wondered if I would see you here!"

Speechless, Serena took in Molly's outfit again and the thin rapier she held with pride. "You've… changed."

"Well, after that whole escapade with Bluebeard I decided I simply couldn't be a helpless, naïve little girl anymore!" She emphasized the statement with a thrust and parry, chopping a nearby soldier nearly in half. "And so I convinced my brothers to train me in the fine art of fencing. This is my first real fight. I think I'm doing pretty well, don't you?"

"Very well," Serena stuttered, but Molly wasn't listening.

"Oh, it looks like Yaten and Taiki need my help. Nice seeing you, Serena!" Serena watched her charge into the crowd and meet up with her two brothers, all mirror images of each other in their feathered hats and billowy shirts. 

But she could not stare for long. Turning back toward the exit door she saw that the guardians had disappeared. Groaning, Serena slipped out of the crowd, hoping to find a vantage point to look for the guardians. She stumbled toward a long buffet table against the wall and pulled herself on top. 

And there was Hota, flittering back and forth near the main entrance. Her purple wings caught the light as she dodged just above the swinging blades. No one else seemed to notice her.

So busy was Serena watching the fairy she almost didn't see a soldier aiming his bow and arrow toward her until it was too late. She glanced his way just as he let the arrow fly. Serena gasped and ducked. The arrow whizzed by her shoulder and struck a tapestry on the wall. Even as the man was reloading his bow, Serena scrambled off the buffet table. Before he could aim another toward her, Serena lifted the white linen tablecloth and scurried underneath—coming face to face with frightened red eyes.

The two girls blinked curiously at each other in the shadows of the table, Serena trying to place where she had seen the unusual hairstyle of pointed buns on each side of the girl's head—so similar to Serena's own trademark style.

"I know you from somewhere," the girl said first, and her voice struck the cord of recognition.

"Rini?"

"Yes… who are…?"

"I'm Serena. I… we met… you were on all those mattresses!"

Rini gasped. "Oh, Lady Serena! Yes, of course. Sorry, I didn't get a good look at you that night."

"It's all right. What are you doing here?"

"Fighting, like everybody else," she said. "But I got hit pretty bad and thought I would come under here to be out of the way." She held out an arm, allowing Serena to see a long gash from shoulder to elbow. "I was just bandaging it up."

"Let me help you," Serena said, grabbing Rini's makeshift bandage—a scrap from her ruined blouse—and wrapping it around the wound.

"It worked, by the way."

"What worked?"

"Complaining about the pea. Look!" She held out her other hand and flashed a large diamond ring. "Elios's parents agreed to our match and we were just married a few days ago. I've never been so happy! Do you want to see him?" She pulled up the tablecloth so that they could watch the commotion from their hiding spot, and pointed her finger at a man at the edge of the crowd. "That's my Elios there. Isn't he handsome?"

The boy _was_ handsome—slender and tall with whitish-blonde hair and lightly tanned skin. He also seemed to be a skilled fighter, Serena noted, watching him take down two soldiers at once. And just past him was Seiya heading toward an exit.

"That's great, Rini. Good seeing you. Sorry, but there's something I have to do!"

Serena hobbled from beneath the table, skirting the crowd as best she could. Progress was slow as she tried to keep one eye on Seiya and one on any stray weapons aimed her way. For the most part, everyone seemed so preoccupied with the battle that they hardly took notice of her—until she crossed the giant main doorway and was grabbed from behind and whipped around.

"Serena! Have you seen Alex?" Briar Rose's eyes were wild, her face even paler than normal. She clutched Serena's shoulders with a vice-like grip.

"Briar Rose! I thought you were going to kill me!" 

"Why would I do that?" the princess asked, honestly curious, then prodded again, "Alex—have you seen him?"

Catching her breath, Serena shook her head. "Not for awhile. I'm sure he's in there somewhere." She gestured toward the mass of people and weapons.

"That's what I was afraid of."

"Did you come here to fight, too?"

"Goodness, no! I just wanted to be sure Alex was all right."

"He wouldn't want you here, so close to danger."

"Where else could I go? The whole town is deserted, except for a couple of old women and a bunch of kids."

"Serena!" The two ladies turned to see Jacob Grimm rushing toward them through the hallway. He stopped before them, panting. 

"Jacob! What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you. Are you all right?"

"There he is!"

Serena turned to Briar Rose who was joyfully pointing to Alex amidst the crowd. Alex was doing quite well, holding his own against Beryl's soldiers like the trained guard that he was. 

"Briar Rose, take this," Serena said, forcing her knife into the princess's hand much as it had been forced into her own. "You don't have to fight, but it's ridiculous to be standing here unarmed."

"But I wouldn't know what to do with it."

"You'll figure it out." Grabbing Jacob by the arm, Serena led the storyteller back into the huge corridor. The thorny briars that had encased the walls and floor had been trampled to pieces by the mob of townspeople, making it easier to navigate the hallway. "Jacob, I've been trying to get close to the guardians, but with no luck. I'm sure they're plotting something. Even if we could defeat these soldiers, I'm sure the guardians would just go back to Cashlin and return with an even larger group—maybe even an army. They have no intentions of losing their rule over this kingdom."

"I know, Serena. That's why I was looking for you. I have an idea… I don't know if it will succeed, or even if it's possible, but it may be our only chance."

"What is it?"

Jacob glanced back toward the battle, unable to hide his nervousness. "Like I said, I don't know if it's even possible. It's been a long time since…"

"Any idea is better than nothing." 

Jacob hesitated only a moment. "I was thinking, earlier, about the guardians, and I felt awfully responsible as my brother and I created them in the first place and it's led to all this disaster. Even though we'd meant for them to be a blessing, maybe if we hadn't given them this power in the first place…"

"Jacob, get to the point."

The man paused. Serena noticed how weary and old he looked. Something in his expression was resigned. "Serena… what if I… made _you_ a guardian?"

Serena was sure she'd heard him wrong. "A guardian?"

He nodded, slowly, uncertainly.

"You can do that?"

Jacob rubbed his hands over his arms. "Well… I'm not sure. I'm not as young as I was back when we gave the guardians _their_ powers. I'm not as strong anymore. But… I might… I could try."

"What does that mean, exactly? To become a guardian? What would happen?"

"Well… it's a sort of transferring of power, difficult to explain. Of course I'm not so powerful anymore which is why I don't know how successful it would be. But… well, first, we would assign you a domain, something to be guardian over."

"What would that be?" Between drama, romance, and tragedy, Serena thought that all the important elements of a story were already covered.

Jacob wrung his hands, but a little smile crept up into his eyes. Serena knew that he'd been thinking about that very question and was delighted with his decision. "Happy endings, Serena," he said. "I would make you the Guardian of Happy Endings."

Serena wasn't sure why that thought filled her with sudden hope—just because one was meant to protect happy endings didn't mean they'd be able to. But she liked the sound of the title. After all, wasn't that what she'd been doing there all along? Trying to make sure everyone got their happy endings?

"There's just one thing about this plan, Serena," Jacob said, his flitting smile disappearing. "One thing you should not take lightly."

"What's that?"

"The rule of being a guardian of the stories is that you may not have a story of your own."

Serena only needed to ponder that for a moment, before she lowered her eyes and shrugged. "That doesn't matter. I've already lost my story."

Jacob nodded. He knew the truth of her words. "So then, you'll do it?"

"Yes. If it stands a chance of fixing all this, then I have to try. Just tell me what to do."

Pursing his lips, Jacob drew her closer to the wall. "All right."

His brow creased. Hesitantly, he raised his frail hands and placed his palms on Serena's temples. She tensed at his touch and was about to ask if it was going to hurt when she felt a subtle tingling inside her head. She flinched against the invasion. Her eyes were glued to Jacob, but his were closed in concentration. His lips were parted and as the tingling increased his breath became heavier until he was panting from exertion. Slowly, the strange sensation in Serena's head traveled down her spine and out through her limbs, heating up the tips of her fingers and toes. It wasn't pleasant or painful, just awkward—like her whole body was going numb with pins and needles. 

Jacob removed his hands without warning. He slumped against the wall with a groan, whatever exhaustion he felt overwhelmed the threat of the thorns that covered the stone. The tingling sensation disappeared with his touch and Serena reached forward to steady him.

"What happened?" she asked, noting beads of sweat on his brow. "Jacob, I—I don't feel any different. Did it work?"

He opened his eyes with effort, his breath still short. He flicked his gaze back toward the throne room. "Tell me what you see."

Hesitant to leave his side, Serena slowly pulled away. Turning, she took a few steps toward the throne room, and then froze, her heart leaping into her throat.

The throne room was filled with thick, inky clouds. Serena gaped at the scene, trying to make sense of the smoke that hovered just over the crowd. Though the strange wisps drifting in the air were all a grayish tone, some were pale—almost silver—while others were truer to an ominous black. The black clouds shook her to the core and, as she watched, she began to see a trend. The truly dark clouds hung over the heads of people who were sorely injured and wrapped up their body just before they collapsed to the ground. The black smoke signaled death.

Serena glanced at Jacob. He was watching her with keen interest.

"You see their auras, don't you?"

Serena slowly nodded. "Everything is gray. Some endings are darker than others, but everyone…"

Jacob nodded. "I know. I see them too. There was a time when you only saw white auras—bright, cheerful things glistening like crowns over every citizen. But happy endings are rare here, today."

"We're losing the battle, Jacob. They're killing us."

"Then you must act fast."

"But what do I do? I can see their fates now but I still don't know how to change them!" she wailed, wondering if this new talent was more a curse than a blessing.

Jacob looked on her with pity. "You are now the Guardian of Happy Endings, Lady Serena. You are the only one with the ability to stop this."

"But _how? _I don't feel any different than before! I don't feel any stronger!"

"You will," he said, tired but confident. "When the balance between happy ending and tragic ending begins to tip, you will know what to do."

"You don't think the balance has tipped yet?" she growled, but Jacob seemed immune to her growing anger.

With a wave of his hand, he muttered, "Go. You must go now. You're wasting time." 

Just as Serena was about to refute him, her anger sizzled away when she saw a wisp of black smoke, almost unperceivable, curl around Jacob's head. She gasped. "Jacob! You're…"

"I know," he murmured. His face had gone drastically pale and his eyes were bloodshot. "I gave you almost all the power I had, Lady Serena. I hope the power of one old, tired storyteller is enough to fix everything. Please, try to save them. My stories…"

Serena found the resolve in the pit of her stomach. "I will, and I'll do it in time to save you too," she said, wishing she felt as confident as she sounded.

Stone-faced, Serena walked back to the throne room. Briar Rose had disappeared. The bloodshed continued. She could not spot any of her friends and was glad of it—she had no desire to see their tragic fates hanging over their heads. The sight of all the smoky clouds made Serena's insides recoil. Her fingers twitched at her sides. Surely their must be _something_ she could do. She was a guardian now. She had responsibility for these people. For these stories.

Still, no solution presented itself. Still Serena felt weak and helpless at the edges of the crowd, her chest constricting each time a sword pierced flesh and another body fell. 

But she felt a sudden change. Not in herself, but in the world around her. A heavy presence filled the room—sinister and furious. Her eyes darted to the thrones and there, on the platform, stood Andrew. His white cloak, his blonde hair, but no longer his carefree smile. He glared into the crowd, his face flushed with hatred.

The guardian raised his arms and the dark presence in the room thickened. Serena felt she was breathing water for a moment, but she shook her head, forcing herself to focus. Her gaze transferred to the side door on her left and there was Hota, a twinkling streak in the doorway. She hovered, perfectly still except for her fluttering wings, and raised her arms out to the sides just as Andrew had done.

Serena glanced right and saw Seiya in the opposite doorway, glowering. His arms raised as well and a weight pressed against Serena's chest, driving air from her lungs. She watched in a panic as the spell hit the crowd—allies and enemies alike fell to the ground, gasping and writhing. The cloud of smoke fell with them, blackening and thickening until Serena could hardly see through it. 

And she knew their plan. _Sacrifice everyone._ Even their own minions would die. But they would regain control. _Kill them all. Start over again._

Serena closed her eyes. Her fists clenched. She gathered every ounce of strength she could, balling it up in the pit of her stomach, and then released it with a terrible cry. 

The spell broke around her. She felt released. Air streamed into her lungs. 

Her scream echoed through the ballroom that had grown eerily quiet in the struggle. The guardians' concentration broke. The spell vanished, leaving a mess of bodies gasping and choking on the bloody marble floor.

The four guardians were the only ones left standing.

Serena took advantage of their shock to regain control of her body, forcing her limbs to stop trembling. She locked eyes with each guardian in turn and it only took a moment to realize what had stunned them so. Not the fact she was still alive or had broken their spell.

They gawked at her because she did not have an aura.

She could see it clearly on them—no cloud hovering around them signifying their fate—and she was sure they were seeing it now missing for her as well.

They knew that there was a fourth guardian.

And Serena felt suddenly very different. The power that had forced itself up from her core did not dissipate when she pushed the spell away. She felt it still, hot and coursing through her veins. She could not remember the feeling of weakness just a moment ago. The strength made her feel unconquerable, invincible.

Thinking that, knowing that, suddenly made the three guardians' motives much clearer. How long could any person live with a power like this before it started to corrupt them?

And she understood what it meant to be a guardian.

"Well," Andrew spoke into the thick silence, "this is unexpected."

"How did that old man—?" Hota stammered.

Seiya said nothing. He stared at Serena with his usual impassive gaze. The momentary shock was gone and he would not let on whether he was surprised or threatened or even interested.

Serena did not care. She looked at each of her enemies—and now brethren—with pity swelling inside of her. And immense sadness for all they had caused. A tendril of a thought crept into her mind: what if Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm had made her a guardian at birth to offset Beryl's curse, rather than send her to live with her mother in their world? Would she have saved Andrew, Hota, and Seiya from the destiny they had created for themselves? Or would she have joined them?

"I hope you understand the sacrifice you've made, Lady Serena," said Andrew with the same pity in his voice that Serena felt.

"I did not make the sacrifice," she responded. "You made the sacrifice for me when you killed Endymion and stole my claim to the throne." Her voice rang clear in the ballroom and she realized that all surviving eyes were on the four of them. Soldiers and townspeople alike watched and waited. Serena did not take a heartbeat to search out a familiar face. She knew now that no one in that room was her friend, for guardians did not have friends. But they were her charges and she would protect them, all of them, if she could.

"Claim to the throne?" Andrew asked. "What claim? Even if Endymion had lived he would not have ruled—"

"Obelia," she interrupted. "Endymion and I would have ruled Obelia together." The guardians threw curious glances at each other. "Haven't you realized? I am Princess Briar Rose of Obelia… I _was_ Princess Briar Rose. It was I whom Beryl cursed as an infant. It was I who was betrothed to Prince Endymion."

"Impossible," Andrew breathed, even as realization crept into his eyes.

"But no more," Serena said, and she felt nothing at the loss of what would have been her fate. Nothing at the loss of love. Nothing at the loss of power. Nothing at the loss of a home. She was a guardian now, and guardians did not get happy endings. "I am no longer a princess. I am no longer the Chosen One. Now—I am one of you."

"Yes, we see that. Tell me—what, exactly, has Lord Grimm made you guardian _of?_"

Serena inhaled a long, slow breath, reveling in the pulsating strength beneath her skin, and looked out over the low black fog in the room. All the tragic endings of all the tragic people.

"He's made me guardian of the most important thing of all." She raised her hands so that her palms stretched toward the dark auras and sent out a thin stream of the gift she'd been given. It reached out for each tragic ending and patiently released the people from the grip of death, one by one. The blackness lifted, the fog slowly shifting from ebony to a pale silver. She disregarded no one, even the armored men from Cashlin, and with each sigh of relief heard from the crowd, Serena felt her strength surge. The three guardians did not try to stop her—she knew they were watching to see how powerful she was, what gifts she had been given. 

Drawn from distant memory, Serena recalled Seiya's words: _"We guardians have a strange effect on the world around us. Our trades follow us everywhere we go and impact everything we do and every person we meet."_

"You have failed," Serena said when every tragic fate had been averted.

"This fight is not over."

"I do not mean this fight. You have all failed in your purpose."

Andrew hinted at a smile. "I see your point, Lady Serena. And perhaps I have failed in my purpose—but I think Seiya and Hota have done quite well. Tragedy and drama abound here, don't you agree?"

"But it isn't about tragedy and drama and romance," Serena said, her pity for the guardians increasing as she looked at their smug faces. "These are only silly titles, and once upon a time you must have known that. Your responsibility was not to these vague notions. After all, who is to say what constitutes as tragic? Or dramatic? Or even romantic?" She scanned the eyes watching her, all the stunned faces, before slowly returning her gaze to Andrew who seemed intrigued by her words. "Jacob made me the last guardian. He gave me the power to have the final say in all the stories. I am the Guardian of Happy Endings. But…" She shrugged, feeling humble despite the power that held her in its grip. "It is not up to me to determine what constitutes a happy ending. For some that is marrying the man of their dreams. For some that is fighting for the chance to live their own life. For some that is eternal ignorance of the evils apparent in the world."

"Then what's the point of having a Guardian of Happy Endings at all?" Hota growled.

"The point," answered Serena, "is the same as having any guardian. We do not protect these ambiguous elements of the stories. We protect the stories themselves. We protect their very existence. We allow them to seek their own fate and obtain their own ending and we hope that with all of our hard work, each story will meet the expectations of drama, tragedy, romance, and a happy ending. That is what we are here for. And _that_ is why you have failed."

"A touching story," muttered Seiya. "Nevertheless, you are going to die, and we are going to rule the three kingdoms."

Serena shook her head. "Impossible. You cannot defeat me."

"You are awfully sure of yourself. But we have been doing this job a lot longer than you have."

"That doesn't matter. Because you have already failed."

Hota scoffed. "I'm bored with this." 

"As am I," agreed Andrew. He raised his hands in the gesture of death they had been in before. Hota and Seiya followed suit. The heavy presence that had nearly drained the life from all the innocent people in the room began to press down on Serena again.

"You took us by surprise last time, Lady Serena. But you won't break the spell again."

But instead of surrounding Serena with suffocating death, the spell reached her and sizzled in the air, before fading quietly away.

The guardians gaped.

"This is why you cannot defeat me," said Serena. "Your powers were once strong because they had been given a purpose—a very important purpose. But you have abused them. You have neglected the responsibility you were given. And so shall your powers neglect you."

"This is ridiculous," Andrew snorted. "Our powers are as strong as the day we became guardians. You are trying to manipulate us."

"No, Andrew. Your powers have been fading ever since you joined with Queen  
Beryl—you've just been too arrogant to notice the signs. You told me of it yourself, when you mentioned how you could no longer see the aura of romantic destiny that once encompassed Prince Endymion. Surely if you still had the given powers of the Guardian of Romance you would not have been blinded to such things…. And you would have noticed the destined bond between Endymion and myself."

The elf flushed. "I could not see his aura because his story had already been ruined!" he cried. "Maybe your bond was broken when you were taken out of this world!"

"Our bond was never broken!" Serena cried, hasty emotion flooding her body, destroying the calm that her powers had given her. "And if the stories had already been ruined then that is your doing. You were meant to protect these people's destinies. But now you bring us only tragedy and death. You will be defeated because you have become the villains. And the villain of a story is always defeated. _Always._ You must understand that better than anyone. If the villain is not defeated, then the story would never end."

"Then this story will never end."

"No. This story is over."

"This conversation is over," Seiya bellowed. "Destroying the stories was a choice we knew we were making, and we deserved to make. No longer will we be slaves to your… your _righteous_ happy endings. We have created a new story in this land, one that we will rule over, and no one is going to stop that!"

"But your powers are weak and mine—"

"Then we will rule by force, not magic!" Seiya reached for his sword, drawing it clear of its scabbard. Serena could not feel threatened; too much of her own strength still claimed her body. "You want us to live up to our purposes, oh powerful Guardian of Happy Endings?" he cried, marching into the midst of fallen civilians. Those with any strength scurried out of his wake but he paid them no heed, his storm-gray eyes focused only on Serena.

Serena was already pulling the magic of fate up from her womb, letting it simmer and seethe in her core, but Seiya did not come for her. Instead, he turned to the first victim he saw—Mina. 

Seiya grabbed her by her blonde hair, matted with dirt and blood, and pulled her to her knees. The princess shrieked and clawed at him, her weapon long since lost. She was little more than a rag doll in his grip. Serena's hold on the magic inside her loosened with a startled cry. Instantly the victim's fated aura turned from a silver-lined cloud to charcoal black, thickening and holding the girl as securely in its grip as Seiya.

"My purpose is to bring tragedy," Seiya growled, pulling back his sword and aiming the blade's tip at Mina's chest. "So tragedy I will bring."

With that promise, Seiya thrust his sword at Mina's heart.

* * *

_Please review._

Note: Initially this story was going to be 36 chapters long, but I am combining many of the final chapters together. In the end it will only be 34 chapters long (only, she says), so you officially have only two more chapters to go! (!)


	33. Endings

Hello, lovely readers!!

If you missed my BIG ANNOUNCEMENT at the beginning of Luna v. 4.2, here it is again:

**My website is up and running! Please come visit me at AliciaBlade dot com.**

And most importantly, please sign up for my **newsletter**! It includes drabbles before they are posted anywhere else, sneak peaks at upcoming stories, and progress reports on my writing, along with my own thoughts and suggestions on writing, reading, and publishing. The first issue was met with praise and I hope it will continue to please. (The next issue is going out on April 15.)

Thanks to Phantasy Star, whose comments on these last chapters were immensely helpful. And really big thanks to everyone who has stuck with the story this long and continues too comment and offer thoughts and suggestions.

Enjoy!

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 33: Endings_  
It was not long before she opened her eyes, sat up, and was alive again._  
from Snow White

Serena's heart stopped as she watched Seiya's sword plummet toward Mina's heart. With a cry, she thrust her palms toward the guardian. The magic ignited her nerves and coursed out of her fingertips. Hurtled toward the princess. Collided with the black cloud of fate surrounding her. The sword froze, poised with the blade barely puncturing Mina's skin.

There it hung. Mina's fate. The tragic ending grappling with Serena's desperation. Serena fell to her knees, straining to keep the sword at bay through sheer willpower, but Seiya strained equally hard. She felt, rather than saw, Mina's aura begin to shift. It trembled briefly under the two opposing pressures.

Malachite came hurtling from the ranks of the stunned crowd with renewed vigor, his sword focused only on slaying the guardian before him.

Hota screamed and lashed out with what magic fate had not taken from her. Malachite's sword ceased to be metal, the blade turning into a writhing, seething snake in his grip. The prince dropped the serpent with a cry and as the creature turned toward him with venomous fangs dripping, Serena saw his fate sealed in a ring of black smoke above his head.

With a grunt, Serena called up the last bits of strength within her, stretching her power to Malachite's aura, desperately trying to hold onto Mina's fate as well.

The snake snapped forward, its iron jaws locking onto Malachite's boot—but the leather held. It could not puncture through to skin.

By the time the snake had dislodged itself, Alex had regained his wits, and a weapon, and cut the creature in half. It evaporated—leaving Malachite's broken sword where it had died.

Andrew and Hota were quick to join the fray. Andrew claimed the sword of a fallen soldier, Hota attempted every small spell she could think of that her powers would permit—momentarily blinding Malachite, setting Alex's cloak ablaze.

Serena struggled to avert each death, but the fates of her friends were quickly growing blacker. Though they fought with everything left in them, they were still overpowered. The smoky auras surrounding them grew darker until Serena could feel death creeping in all around her.

When her new strength stretched too thin, Serena felt her hold on Mina's fate snap. Seiya stumbled back away from the princess, released from Serena's gift.

The guardian did not waste a moment to renew his attack. He raised his sword again and lunged.

Serena screamed. Mina's fate blackened before her eyes. She saw death—and failure.

She lost control.

Her links to all her companion's fates shattered and Serena fell forward with a wail. Panting and crying, she raised her eyes, expecting to see Seiya's sword make the fatal thrust. Expecting to watch helplessly as the guardians won the battle, once and for all.

Seiya's sword pierced Mina's heart. The point drove through her chest, erupted from between here shoulder blades.

The princess did not have time to make a sound, just stared at the guardian with death in her eyes before sliding down the blade and lying prone on the floor.

Seiya forgot her instantly, ready to move on to his next victim. But his sword would not release the princess's heart. Frowning, he pulled on the hilt but it did not budge.

And then the black cloud surrounding Mina started to tremble and throb—and grow. It darkened until it was a splotch of ink hanging on the air. And it deserted Mina's body—crawling up the blade of the sword and hilt, over and around Seiya's hand and arm. The guardian struggled to pull away but the aura held him captive. It reached his shoulder, his neck. It thrived on his tragic energy. Oozing and languid, the cloud rolled up the guardian's chin. Seiya screamed and the aura slipped into his mouth.

The fighting around him stopped. The spectators watched as Seiya released the sword and stumbled backward, collapsing to the ground. Those close to the guardian scurried away on injured limbs. In their eyes, the guardian was being attacked by an invisible phantom—only the guardians could see a person's fate.

Seiya choked on the evil invading his lungs. Gagging, he reached for his throat, tried to pull the invader away, but his hands met only smoke. His eyes watered as he struggled for breath—writhed and clawed at the untouchable enemy.

"Seiya!" Hota screamed. She careened toward the fallen guardian, her body crackling with energy, and tried to pull the black smoke away. But it evaded her in teasing wisps.

Andrew rushed for the fairy. "Hota, no! You can't save him!" He fell to his knees and snatched the fairy from the haze.

The guardians watched as Seiya gurgled his last attempt at breath and shuddered before lying still and silent on the marble floor. His charcoal eyes stared at nothing. The tear tattoo on his cheek never fell.

Hota wailed. Her stomach clenched to see the inky cloud squirm up slowly from Seiya's open mouth and seep down along his body, its job finished. The fairy turned livid eyes to Serena, the only person who could control such fates.

It was not Serena that made her breath snag.

Andrew noticed the threat at the same time—all of the destined fates of the soldiers and the townspeople hung thick in the air between them and the Guardian of Happy Endings. It was like a living wall, opaque and ominous, slowly creeping toward them on silent feet. Andrew started to back away, but stopped at Hota's startled gasp.

Turning, he saw that the auras surrounded them. The mass pulsed and squirmed, patiently closing in.

Andrew stood his ground. When the aura crept close enough, he lashed out with his sword and a battle cry.

The sword swept through the enemy like smoke, but then stuck.

Startled, Andrew pulled on the hilt, trying to loosen it from the aura's hold. The blade did not budge. And then the inky wisps were slithering up over the hilt, tying languidly around Andrew's fingers.

Hota hovered, terrified, over Andrew as the aura followed the same path it had taken on Seiya—crawling up his elbow, his shoulder, his chin. Andrew clenched his teeth and turned his head away from his captor, struggling to avoid the death tugging at his body. His attempts were futile. The creature slipped into his nostrils and when the elf screamed, it flooded his mouth.

Hota covered her mouth, horrified and sickened. She turned toward the ceiling and soared upward to escape the fate of her two companions.

But the wall of destiny rose higher. Hota found herself with nowhere to go.

The auras encompassed her, wrapping the fairy's small body and wings up in living smoke and pulling her back to the ground. She landed between Andrew and Seiya as the elf was drawing his last shuddering breath. The fairy thrashed and cried as the vapor seeped inside her.

Tragic endings work quick. Hota's struggling lasted only a moment until death claimed her and she lay silent and unmoving on the marble floor.

Serena found herself still on hands and knees, gaping at the three villains of Aysel. Her eyes stung from tears. She remained in her stupor as the inky aura slowly crawled up and out of the guardians' mouths, its job completed, and slithered back into the crowd. The crowd could not see it and were not afraid as the black aura changed back to a silver-lined fog and hung like mist above their heads.

Serena pushed herself back to kneeling. Her mouth had gone dry. Never had she felt so exhausted. The strain of the past few hours suddenly caught up with her and she slumped over, her chin falling to her chest.

She could not be proud of her victory. She felt only exhaustion—unearthly exhaustion.

A firm hand on her shoulder prompted her to open her eyes. They met with the marble floor, bloody footprints, and broken, thorny vines.

"Lady Serena, thank you."

Raising her head, she met Jacob Grimm's grateful smile and kind eyes. Her tears began to fall unwelcome, but the old man just patted her on the shoulder as if he did not see them, and turned to look over the people of Aysel and the soldiers of Cashlin. All his people—all of them.

Choking on a sob, Serena followed his gaze. All of the fighters were looking around them as if in a daze. There was no doubt that the battle was over, and the war was won. The soldiers had the courtesy to wear faces of shame and Serena wondered how much Beryl's silver tongue had had them brainwashed.

People were tending their wounds and seeking out their companions who had not fared so well. A slow, mournful cry began to hum throughout the crowd as people found their fallen lovers, family, friends.

Serena spotted Malachite, cradling Mina's body and sobbing into her hair. The aura of fate that hung over him was gray—not happily ever after, but not tragic, either.

Mina no longer had any destiny above her at all.

"Jacob," Serena whispered, "I don't feel like we won."

Jacob turned back to her with lips pursed in sympathy. "That's because you aren't done yet." He held out his hand and Serena took it with a sinking feeling. Obligation pressed down on her, but all she could think of was laying her head on that cold marble floor and sleeping for a hundred years. Every muscle in her body creaked as she clambered to her feet, but she sucked in her breath and stood up anyway, tottering for a moment. The throne room spun and the floor jilted beneath her feet, but it only lasted a moment and Jacob never left her side.

Her wits gathered, Serena surveyed the damage that Beryl and the guardians had wrought. The castle was thrashed, ravaged inside and out by the invasive briars. This throne room had taken the brunt of it. The floor was sticky with blood. Tables and chairs were splintered. Curtains hung in shreds.

And then there were all the dead people, all those who had not escaped the tragic ending, strewn over the marble with crying loved ones hovering over them. Serena estimated that a quarter of the soldiers had fallen, and over half of the townspeople.

And of course Mina, Jadeite, Raye… and Endymion.

"Jacob," she said, grasping the old man's elbow, "can guardians bring people back to life?"

He hesitated, and Serena noted that he looked almost as exhausted as she felt. "Serena, you are the Guardian of Happy Endings," he answered. "Only you know what you can and cannot do."

He began leading her into the room, but Serena stopped him, tugging on his arm.

"Jacob—before we… I wanted to ask you, before…"

He waited, tilting his head at her.

"When did you know that I was Briar Rose? When we met… on Thornrose Lane?"

Jacob glanced away. "I knew that you were the true princess, yes. I have watched you from afar, since the day we brought you to that world."

Serena inhaled a deep breath, thinking back to their first meeting and trying to remember how it had felt to be ignorant of this world and her role in it. To not know what true love felt like. To not feel magic in her veins. To only read the stories and imagine being a part of them.

"Lady Serena," Jacob continued, "I am truly sorry to have brought you back to this. I am sorry to have caused you so much pain. A child so young should not know the heartbreak you know, and should not have to experience the responsibility that has been put on you. It's just that you seemed like such a blessing that day when you showed up on my doorstep. My brother and I knew that horrible things were happening and that we were not strong enough to stop it. I thought your mother would kill me when she found out I'd let you return to the world we had tried to save you from sixteen years ago, but she seemed to understand when I told her. She'd seen how devoted you were to your book of fairy tales. She knew as well as I that you were the best chance we had."

"But why _me_?"

He closed his fingers gently over hers. "Because you loved these stories as much as we did."

Serena could not respond. She knew it was true.

"Shall we, then?" Jacob said, pulling her toward the crowd again.

"Yes," she answered, taking a long breath and facing the people before her. "And I think I know what I can do."

The crowd parted before them as Jacob led her into the center, to where Malachite cried over Mina's body. Luna and Artemis had joined them, tears running down their cheeks. Serena thought she saw Nephlite, Lita, Zoicite, and Amy making their way toward them but she could only focus on Mina's ashen face. The sword had been removed from her chest and a swath of fabric draped across her to hide the wound, but the crimson pool on the tile was impossible to conceal.

Malachite did not notice Jacob and Serena approach. His knuckles were white from clutching the material of his wife's tunic and his body shook with each wracking sob. His silver hair cascaded over Mina, blanketing her own spun-gold locks, and his gray-fated aura crowned them both.

Which was exactly what Serena needed.

She did not bother to disturb the prince. She lowered her aching muscles into a kneel and watched as the small silver cloud wavered at her presence. When she had first seen the auras hanging over people's heads she had thought they were merely a fortune telling device, but now she believed them to be much more, perhaps even living beings with their own thoughts and desires. Certainly they had come to life to dispose of the evil guardians, and Serena doubted they had gone back into dormancy.

They were almost like fairy godmothers, in fact. Maybe that was what the story had really meant.

_But in that case,_ she mused, slowly reaching her fingers out to the cloud trailing over Malachite's head, _I'm a little bit like a fairy godmother, too._

Serena's fingers touched the foggy veil and Malachite looked up at her, suddenly aware of her presence. He flinched away in surprise—unable to see the aura of fate that  
Serena was touching—but the little cloud did not depart with him. It lingered at the tips of Serena's fingers, shimmering.

The prince's face was wet and flushed, his eyes red. Serena did not look at him as she curled a tiny wisp of his fate around her finger and began to speak.

"Prince Malachite, what would you do to save her?"

He gawked at her, his arms never loosening from his wife. "Serena… can you…?"

"Perhaps," she whispered. "But only with your help."

"Anything," he croaked. "I would do anything for her."

Serena nodded and drew her fingers away, taking a tiny wisp of fate along with her. It clung briefly to the larger cloud before letting go and hovering in Serena's palm.

"I am linking your fates together," Serena said. "I am giving a part of your future to her. If you are to live happily ever after, then so shall she. But be warned: if either of you fall into tragedy, _both_ of you shall fall into tragedy. In this way you are forever bound."

Malachite gawked, unable to comprehend as Serena held her open palm close to Mina's lips. In his eye her hand was empty, but he did not question her.

Only Serena and Jacob Grimm could see the tiny, smoky tendril perch curiously on Mina's lips, before disappearing inside.

Serena withdrew her hand and waited.

Happy endings work quick.

Mina drew her first shock of breath at the same time that her new fate slipped out of her lips and went to peacefully encircle her head.

The crowd gasped and Malachite had let out a joyful cry and embraced her before she could even open her eyes.

"Malachite…" she whispered, weakly reaching her arms up to surround him. "I had the most terrible dream."

The prince sobbed into her neck. "It's over now," he murmured. "It's over now."

With a relieved sigh, Serena sat back on her heels and smiled at the couple, but her smile fell as she turned her gaze to the rest of the room. She was feeling dizzy again. Her head throbbed and her eyes stung, and every time her gaze fell on another body her heart clamped. She felt suffocated, could hardly breathe, but she tried her best to ignore it. Reaching for Jacob's shoulder, she pulled herself unsteadily to her feet.

As Jacob had said, her job was not yet done. There was still far too much tragedy…

But as she moved to the nearest fallen victim, a teenage boy whose parents were grasping his hands and looking at Serena with hopeful eyes, Jacob stepped in front of her.

"Serena, you cannot go on like this. You need to rest," he said, placing his hands on her shoulders.

Shrugging him off, Serena shook her head. "There are still so many people…. They need me…."

"But Serena…"

"I am the Guardian of Happy Endings," she snapped. "I am going to finish this, just as you created me to do."

Jacob dared not argue again.

And so Serena did just what she was meant to do.

Slowly, methodically, she made her way around the room, to every person with an inky black fate. To every corpse with no fate at all. Every townsperson. Every soldier. And every time she felt she would collapse from exhaustion, she would look up and see one more mother weeping, one more husband cradling his wife, one more sister gripping her brother's hand—and she would continue. Most of the fallen heroes had loved ones willing to share a fate with them, and Serena was even able to find enough unmarried girls willing to bind fates with the soldiers of Cashlin, until every last person in the room was saved.

In that way the evening and then the night passed, until finally Serena stopped and looked around and was able to see all the silver linings. All the happy endings, and was somehow able to smile whimsically to herself.

She did not know who caught her then as she sunk to the ground. She was too tired to care, and already asleep when they lay her head on the marble floor.

* * *

Serena woke up to the warmth of sun on her face. She instinctively rolled away from it and buried her head into the thick, silky-soft pillow. She groaned to feel the distant ache of her muscles.

She opened her eyes to a squint, peering out at white bed linens and a familiar bedpost. The mist of sleep slinked away and she lifted herself onto an elbow and looked around the sun-filled room.

It was her guest room, the same she had been staying in for so many weeks, though it had been through some wear and tear. Someone had tried to mend the curtains as nicely as possible, but there were still holes where the thorns had punctured them. The wall decorations had all been taken down and the ornately carved vanity was being held up by four mismatched legs. The mirror frame above it was still empty.

But there was not a thorn in sight.

Serena glanced at the nightstand and was not disappointed when her eyes met with a tray of fresh fruit and a loaf of bread. She ate it greedily, feeling as if she hadn't eaten in days, and savored each bite like she may never see another morsel of food again.

Only when her appetite had been satiated did she throw off her blankets and crawl out of bed.

She discovered that she had been changed out of her mourning dress and into a cotton nightgown, and that her face and body had been cleaned of the dirt smudges and dried blood. All of her wounds had been tediously cleansed and bandaged and she was amazed to find that the gash Seiya had left in her shoulder was already beginning to heal.

She found an array of dresses hanging in the wardrobe, freshly washed and pressed. She chose a simple blue calico gown and a pair of leather ankle boots. Her feet stung when she walked, still sore from trampling unprotected across the briars.

Feeling far more refreshed than she could ever recall feeling, and reveling in the sensation of her guardian's power having returned to a warm, comforting presence in the base of her stomach, Serena ventured out into the castle's corridor.

She was amazed to find the hallway bustling with activity. Dozens of people were rushing up and down the hallway, carrying baskets and carts full of food, cleaning supplies, and linens. Men were up on ladders chopping away the vines that clung to the ceiling with axes while women swept them off toward overflowing wheelbarrows. Artists were tediously touching up paintings with damaged canvases and carpenters were busy measuring windows that needed replacing.

Everyone seemed so cheerful as they went about their jobs, and every single aura floating over their heads was crystalline white.

"You're awake!"

Serena turned just in time for Amy to pull her into a hug.

"Amy," she mumbled into the girl's shoulder, returning the embrace. "How long was I asleep?"

"Nearly three days. And you needed it—you looked half dead after the battle. How do you feel?" she asked, pulling away to fix Serena with a concerned frown.

"World's better. Wonderful, actually. And everyone else? How is Mina?"

"Everyone's fine! Everyone you touched has been up and about like nothing ever happened. And you should see all the Cashlin soldiers. They've all been terribly regretful about what they did and are helping us put the castle back the way it was."

"I can tell. It feels like a new place already."

"There are a lot of people helping us clean up the mess. Even the King of Obelia came down and brought a whole army once he heard what was happening down here. Of course, all was over and done with by the time they got here, but it's great having the helping hands."

"It'll be fixed up in no time."

"That's what we're hoping. Oh! Except… there are a few things that… that we've all been waiting on you for." Amy looked momentarily distraught and grasped Serena's hands. "We were hoping you could… if you aren't too tired…"

"What is it?"

"Well… it's just that, Prince Jadeite is still dead," she whispered, her voice low as if any sad news would break the joyful spell cast over the castle. "Lord Grimm tried to heal him, like you did… and there were a dozen girls willing to _bind_ with him, as he called it, but he said that he just didn't have the same strength you have… the same power."

"That doesn't really matter. He wouldn't have been able to bind them anyway."

Amy's eyes widened in surprise. "What do you mean? Why couldn't he bind with them?"

"Because he has to bind with Raye."

"Raye?"

"Yes, Raye. Couldn't you tell that they were in love?"

Flabbergasted, Amy slowly shook her head. "I… couldn't, no. When did that happen?"

"From the moment they met, just like you and Zoicite. I'm sure Jadeite's body will only accept Raye's destiny being linked with his."

"Well that presents another problem, then," Amy said, nibbling her fingernail. "We couldn't do anything for Raye, either. In fact, you won't believe this, but Lord Grimm says she isn't fully dead—that she still has a 'fate' hanging over her. But he was unable to bring it back from tragic… Does this make sense to you? I'm trying to quote Lord Grimm as best as I remember, but I didn't fully understand what he was talking about…"

Serena nodded and quieted Amy with a gentle hand on her shoulder. "It makes perfect sense. I'll see what I can do for them."

"We should tell the dwarfs that you're awake. They're itching to ask your help in reviving Raye… and I know they'll do anything to help if they can."

"I'm not sure yet how they'll be able to help, but I guess we had better go find them to let them know I'm on the case."

"Oh! And one other thing too… I'm sorry to burden you with all this just after you've awoken…"

"Don't be. That's why I'm here."

"Well… it's…" She hesitated, looking away as she searched for the words. "It's Endymion, Serena. We found him in one of the towers, but… but Lord Grimm wasn't able to bring him back either. Luna and Artemis are so upset about it and I know… that you…"

Serena looked down, her heart sinking in her heart, and slowly nodded. "Endymion…" she breathed. "I'll… I'll see what I can do."

Amy tried to force a supportive smile. "We'd better go find the dwarfs, then, and let everyone know you're awake. They'll be so happy to see you."

* * *

Serena, Jacob, and the seven dwarfs had gone into the forest to retrieve Raye and her glass coffin and bring them back to the castle at Serena's bidding. But as soon as Serena had laid eyes on the girl—still as beautiful as the moment she'd bitten that poisoned apple—a very bad feeling had welled up in her throat. There was a dilemma with Raye and Jadeite's happy ending which Serena was quick to realize but loathed to tell the dwarfs. On their way back, as the dwarfs meandered slowly beneath the weight of the coffin, Serena pulled Jacob aside and tried to form her doubt into words.

That is, she was certain that Jadeite would take Raye's fate, but she was not certain it was a fate he _should_ take. After all, the aura above Raye's body was smoldering and black, nearly as tragic as a fate could be, and Serena worried that sharing that fate with Jadeite would only doom them both—if they could be any further doomed than they already were.

She sighed after explaining this theory to Jacob, who listened with frown lines wrinkling his forehead.

"I don't know what will happen if we chain Jadeite to that tragic ending Raye is faced with now," she murmured. "And I can't think of any way to wake up Raye without first bringing Jadeite back to life. _He _has to be the one to kiss her."

"Kiss her?" Jacob interrupted.

"Yes, kiss her, and dislodge the apple from her throat."

"Ah…" he muttered. "Is that how it happens? It's been so long since we wrote the stories, I must have forgotten that part."

Serena frowned at the man from the corner of her eye. "How could you forget? It was the best part of the story."

Jacob shrugged. "I don't know… but I don't remember that part. Nevertheless," he smiled at her, "I'm sure you'll come up with something."

Uncomforted, Serena scowled out at the looming trees and forest floor speckled with sunlight. "Senile old man," she muttered beneath her breath.

A moment later, a yelp and crash echoed through the tranquil forest. Serena and Jacob turned back to see the coffin lying in the middle of the path surrounded by sparkling pieces of broken glass, and Vlonterp rolling around on his back, grimacing and holding his ankle.

"What happened?" Serena asked.

"'e tripped," muttered Kepple. "The clumsy lout."

"Someone put a rock in my way!" Vlonterp bellowed.

A sudden coughing silenced them, and they all turned to see Raye jolt up, one hand reaching for her throat. Choking.

"Snow Flake!" Vlonterp cried, just as a piece of glossy red apple tumbled out of Raye's lips.

"Ah—now _that's _what I remember," said Jacob, a huge smile on his round, wrinkled face.

Serena gawked on as the dwarfs bombarded Raye with hugs and Vlonterp with friendly pats on the back. "Of course," she murmured, "Snow White wakes up because someone drops her coffin, and _that _dislodges the apple. Not a kiss… How did I forget that?"

Once Raye's breathing had steadied, she surveyed the forest with wonderment. "What happened? Where are we?"

"Beryl tried to kill you again. That apple you bit into was poisoned."

Raye frowned, then quickly shook her head. "No, no… Sir Andrew gave me that apple. You know, the elf."

"Andrew was working for Beryl. As were Hota and Seiya."

Raye's jaw fell. "You're kidding! How…?"

"It's a very long story," said Serena, lending her arm to help Raye to her feet. "I'll try to explain on the way back to the castle. Now that you're awake, I need your help with something."

* * *

Raye could hardly believe her eyes when she first saw the destruction that had been wrought on the castle. Slow tears filled up her violet gaze as Serena led her through the thorny briars that had not yet been brushed away and all the doors that still hung crooked on their broken hinges.

But she looked truly horrified when she laid eyes on Jadeite.

Nearly six days of death had left Jadeite's skin ashen and translucent—a body slowly becoming a corpse. Raye approached him with reserve and sat on the bed that had been made up for the prince to rest on prior to his burial ceremony. She took his hand into hers, flinching at the iciness of his fingers, and her tears began to fall.

Luna and Artemis watched from the corner of the room. The joy at having their kingdom reclaimed and their townspeople saved tasted bittersweet with their two youngest sons still lying dead. Luna glanced at Serena and forced a hesitant smile.

Serena did not see the smile, too focused on Raye and Jadeite. She walked to the other side of Jadeite's bed, keenly watching the aura over Raye's head. Since she had awoken it had taken on a subtle shade of gray, as the auras tended to do when neither tragedy nor happiness seemed to be in store.

Which Serena did not fully understand. In her mind, the loss of love was the most tragic ending possible. To be forced to go on living without that person by your side seemed unbearable—but she choked down the thought.

Maybe fate did not see Raye's ending as tragic yet because there was still the _potential…_

"What happened to him?" Raye murmured, her voice catching in her throat.

"Murdered by Seiya," Serena answered.

Raye stroked trembling fingers through Jadeite's hair. "He was so kind to me, from the moment we met. I can hardly believe we only knew each other for a few short days. I felt…" She sobbed, slumping over and burying her face in Jadeite's chest. "This should not have happened. This is all wrong."

Her aura shivered above her, already creeping uncertainly down toward Jadeite's body. Serena had to fight off a proud grin—she knew Raye's aura would take to him.

"Let's give them a moment, shall we?" she whispered, ushering the king and queen out of the little room. Jacob, the dwarfs, the princes and their wives were all waiting in the hallway, craning to see inside, but Serena shut the door. The last thing she saw was Raye steeling a kiss from the prince she'd intended to love—and her cloud of fate growing brighter.

"He's going to live," said Serena, turning to Luna and Artemis.

Luna sucked in a breath, clenching her husband's hand. "Are you sure?" she breathed.

"I'm sure. Jadeite will accept being linked with Raye's fate—and I predict you'll be welcoming another daughter-in-law soon."

With a joyful cry, Luna flung her arms around Serena's shoulder. "You're a miracle worker! I—I can't believe it. Oh, thank you!"

Chuckling, Artemis coaxed his wife away from Serena. "My wife shares gratitude for us both," he said. "I thought that you were a blessing to this kingdom the day you came here. I wonder how we ever got on without you."

Serena looked away. She did not feel at all successful. All of her victories in this kingdom did not outweigh the one failure she could not come to terms with.

"And that… just leaves…" she muttered, meeting Jacob's gaze before turning back to the king and queen.

"Yes! Of course, Endymion!" Luna was glowing, a smile brighter than the moon she was named for lighting up her face.

Her palms sweating, Serena looked around at the group, everyone looking so happy, so hopeful. She licked her lips and lowered her gaze to the floor.

"I… I cannot save Endymion," she said, her throat drying.

She did not look up, but she felt the joy in the hallway extinguish with her words.

"But… why?" asked Artemis. "We'll go find Princess Briar Rose. Surely her… fate or aura or whatever it is you call it…"

Inhaling a long breath, Serena looked at Endymion's brothers and parents in turn, seeing the anguished expressions as they waited for her to explain.

"_I_ am Princess Briar Rose," she said. "The princess that you know is a stand-in, meant to protect me from Queen Beryl after she gave me the curse. I am the princess that was betrothed to Endymion. And I…" She fought back the tears, fought to keep her voice steady. "I am the one who was in love with him. And I am the one he loved back."

It took a moment for her words to sink in, but once they had, Queen Luna shook her head in confusion. "But… but this is wonderful, Serena. You can share _your_ fate with him, then. I think that you and Endymion…"

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty," Serena interrupted. "But you see… I am no longer the princess that was betrothed to Endymion. I am a guardian now. And guardians… we don't have stories. We don't have happy endings." She could not fight the tears any longer as they made salty paths down her cheeks. "If I had the power to bring Endymion back… it's the only thing I wish I had the power to do. But I know that Endymion's body will never accept being bound to anyone but me and I… I have no destiny with which to bind him. I'm… I'm so very sorry. Please know that I loved your son, more… more than…" Luna stepped forward and wrapped Serena in another hug as she dissolved into tears. "I loved him so much," she sobbed. "And I never told him… and I ruined everything."

Luna soothed down Serena's hair, cooing, "There, there, dear…"

"He asked me to run away with him," Serena choked. "He asked me to marry him…. And if I'd gone with him, maybe…"

"Oh, Serena, you can't do this to yourself," said Luna, pulling away and cupping Serena's cheeks in her hands. "Endymion would be so happy and so proud to see all the good you have done for this kingdom, for his brothers and his friends… I want to see you happy, and I would do anything to see Endymion's smile again, but Grimm knows you did the best that you could. You managed to save us all, Serena." Sighing, she pulled Serena to her again. "I know it's hard. I know it is, child. But someday you will look back on this day and know how much good you brought to us."

Serena pursed her lips and said nothing, doubting that the painful memories of this day would ever ease, even if she had all the time in all the worlds.

"What's all this? Why are you all crying? That is no way to welcome a man back from the dead."

Serena pulled herself from Luna's embrace and spun around to see Jadeite and Raye holding hands in the open doorway.

The prince looked much better than he had mere moments ago. His face was flushed a healthy pink and his eyes vibrant.

"Jadeite!" Luna cried, flinging herself into the arms of her son. "We were so worried! We didn't… oh, my baby boy!"

Jadeite laughed, waiting for her babbling to die down. "Come, mother—you didn't think a sword to the heart could keep me down for long, did you?"

Raye rolled her eyes, a smirk on her lips as Jadeite embraced his father and brothers and sisters-in-law.

"Raye tells me we've had quite the exciting few days here. I'm sorry to have missed it all. I would have liked to show Queen Beryl a piece of _my_ sword."

"It's all over now, and I'm glad of it," said Artemis. "Now that you're up and around again, I guess we'd better get a feast prepared. You look like a skeleton."

"Death will do that to a man."

Raye looked radiant standing in the window's mellow sunlight. And she could not keep her eyes from Jadeite, a smile always on her lips, and Jadeite could not keep his hands from her; he was constantly reaching to lace their fingers together or rub a palm on her lower back.

Serena did not know for certain what had been said between them after Jadeite had awoken from a stolen kiss, but she thought she had a pretty good idea.

After all, the shared destiny that hung over them was as white as snow.

"Pardon me, Your Majesties." A messenger cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the group who had been so caught up in their joy—and sadness—that no one had seen him approach. "King Kenneth of Obelia requests the honor of your presence, Your Majesties. He wishes to discuss matters of the state."

Artemis groaned. "Politics at a time like this?"

"We're going to be very busy monarchs for the next few weeks, darling."

"Yes, I guess we'd better get going. There is an awful lot to discuss, isn't there?"

"I'll come with you," interrupted Serena, eyes freshly stinging from the tears.

"Oh, Serena, you've been through so much and I'm sure this will bore you to death."

Serena shook her head. "Anything you decide will affect me as well. Plus… I… would like to meet the King of Obelia."

"All right, then. We'd better be off. We don't want to keep His Majesty waiting," said Artemis.

Serena strained her lips into an awkward smile and realized that her stomach was fluttering with nerves.

It was the strangest feeling. The invincibility of power. The inescapable sorrow. And now, the inescapable nerves that came with meeting her father for the first time.

* * *

"Good day, Kenneth!" bellowed Artemis, clapping arms with the King of Obelia like old friends. "What can I do for you?"

"I only wished to discuss some small matters—I'm quite sorry to have bothered you." The king's voice was loud and boisterous in the otherwise quiet room.

Serena hung back behind Luna and Artemis. When they had first entered the throne room—amazingly devoid of blood and thorns as she'd expected it to be—she'd first noticed a row of guards near the back wall, Alex's blonde hair shining out amongst them, and Briar Rose lingering at her father's side.

But then Serena dared to look at the king and could not take her eyes away. He was only a hair shorter than Artemis and had short, clean-cut brown hair and auburn eyes with deep laugh lines etched into their corners. His short beard was full and wiry and speckled with gray. His shoulders were broad, his arms strong, and instead of being dressed to meet a neighboring king in velvet robes, he was wearing a comfortable hunting uniform—high boots, a leather jerkin, and an emerald wool cloak.

Serena thought of her mother and what she must have thought the first time she'd laid eyes on this man. Had she loved him immediately? Had they been betrothed, or had they met by chance?

Because her mother had always refused to speak of the man, Serena realized that she knew nothing about him. Not if he was kind or gentle, not if he loved children, not if he had any hobbies or particular tastes. But she knew how her mother had smiled sometimes in a far-off way, and how her mother had cried so many nights when she thought Serena was asleep.

"It's no bother at all," Artemis was saying. "We are forever in your debt. Without the help from you and your army it would take us months to get everything sorted out."

Kenneth waved away the gratitude. "Think nothing of it. Beryl was a mutual enemy and I'm only sorry we didn't arrive sooner to join in the fight."

"All is well in the end. Now then—what had you wished to discuss?"

Serena chewed on the inside of her cheek, waiting for King Kenneth to notice her, but he did not seem in the habit of directing his gaze at anyone other than the person he meant to speak with.

"Two things. The first is what we intend to do with Cashlin now that Beryl has been eliminated. It will need a new ruler, and quickly. The whole country has suffered from Beryl's tyranny—the sooner we can install a new king and ally them, the better."

"I fully agree, and believe I have just the solution. In fact, we will not be installing a king, but a queen."

Kenneth raised an eyebrow. "A queen?"

"Yes. We have been lucky enough to find Princess Snow White."

"Snow White! However did you find her? I was told she was impeccably well hidden."

Now it was Artemis's turn to look curious. "Well hidden, Your Majesty? We all thought she was dead!"

Kenneth laughed, a hearty, booming laugh that quickened Serena's heart. "That's right! I'm sorry to have kept the secret, but it was of dire importance. You see, one of our personal guards was the very man who rescued her and took her to safety. Alex?"

Alex stepped forward out of the line of guards, his expression refusing to hint at any sign of pride in the matter.

"Ah, yes! We have had some dealings with this gentleman."

"And while we're all standing here," interrupted Luna, "this may be as good a time as any to apologize profusely for throwing you in the dungeons. We were sorely mislead."

Alex bowed. "It has already been forgotten, Your Majesty."

Briar Rose was watching Alex from the corner of her eye, but he did not return the gaze.

"Of course it makes perfect sense with Beryl gone that Snow White can come out of hiding and reclaim her throne. Have you discussed it with her?"

"Not yet, but I think she will be happy to return home. If I recall correctly, the people of Cashlin were always quite smitten with her and would be happy to call her queen."

"I think you are right. We will have to discuss it further with her, but for the time being it sounds like a simple and reasonable solution. Now then, the other thing I wanted to talk to you about." King Kenneth reached out toward Briar Rose, putting his arm around her in the way that affectionate fathers do and Serena felt a momentary twist of jealousy in her stomach. "I have been informed with utmost sorrow over the recent deaths of your youngest sons, Princes Jadeite and Endymion. I wish to extend my personal sympathies. No parent should live to see the death of any child."

Artemis and Luna accepted the sympathies with gentle nods. "The passing of Endymion is our greatest tragedy," Luna confirmed. "But we are lucky enough to say that the Guardian of Happy Endings has been able to bring life back to Jadeite."

Kenneth's eyes widened in surprise. "Is that so? My—congratulations! That is wonderful news!"

"We couldn't agree more."

"Well then… I do apologize for the forthrightness of this suggestion and hope you do not see my concerns as being too frank, but thought perhaps we should discuss the matter of once again joining our kingdoms through the sacred unity of marriage."

Serena's heart skipped and she could not help glancing at Briar Rose, still sheltered beneath her father's arm. She would make eye contact with no one, but her expression looked purely miserable.

"You mean between Briar Rose and Jadeite?" Luna breathed. "So soon?"

"Yes—and I again apologize for the bluntness, but in times like these it can be a great blessing to show the people how life carries on, and what better way to do that than a wedding? And as we have planned on uniting our countries for so long…"

"Your request is refused."

Everyone turned to look at Serena. She felt no embarrassment at her interruption. There was no way she would let Briar Rose marry Jadeite, and everyone might as well know that right up front.

Kenneth was staring at her, eyes full of shock. She cleared her throat. "My apologies, Your Highness," she continued, "but a marriage union between Princess Briar Rose and Prince Jadeite is out of the question. Prince Jadeite, I'm afraid, is already engaged—to Princess Snow White."

It wasn't entirely true, and she inwardly prayed that Luna and Artemis would not call her on the fib. She figured an engagement between the two couldn't be far off, so what did it matter?

But Kenneth had no response for her, just continued to gape, as if Serena were a phantom from the dead.

She grew increasingly uncomfortable beneath his stare, and couldn't help shifting her eyes around the room. She spotted Briar Rose, who looked overjoyed with Serena's comment, though that relief was quickly turning into concern at the king's silence.

"Father…" she ventured, but he stepped away from her, releasing the arm over her shoulder as if he had not heard her.

Serena took a step back, noticing that there were sudden tears in his eyes—tears that terrified her.

"Is it… my goodness… it is you…" the king muttered, his gaze drifting over every inch of Serena's face.

She gulped. "Yes…" she slowly responded, looking up into the king's astonished eyes. "It is."

He shook his head with disbelief. "You look just like your mother."

* * *

_Please review._


	34. Beginnings

_I'll save my blabbering for the end. You've come this far, so finish the darn story for heaven's sake!_

The House on Thornrose Lane  
Alicia Blade

Chapter 34: Beginnings

…_and they lived happily to the end of their days._  
from Grimm's Fairy Tales

Serena was grateful that his tears were not yet falling, because the mention of her mother sent water filling up her own lashes and she didn't think she could stand any more crying.

Speechless, she simply nodded.

"And you're safe," her father proclaimed, a grin lighting up his features. "I was afraid the curse would find you anyway, but we succeeded! And you're here! I didn't even know that you'd come home. Is your mother…?"

"No… Mom didn't come with me."

"But she's all right? How is she?"

"She's fine."

The king nodded, his eyes still brimming with delight. "And you? How are you? It's been so long… you were so tiny then."

"It was sixteen years ago."

"Yes, I know. I've counted them. And now look at you. So pretty and well-spoken."

"You don't know anything about me," she spat, a sudden bitterness stinging her words, and she regretted them the moment they left her.

Kenneth stepped back, surprised. "Yes… I know…. But goodness, I did not want it to be this way. We all decided it was the only way to protect you…"

"Well it _didn't_ protect me. I'm sorry, but your grand plan failed. The curse still got me, I still had to defeat Beryl, I still fell in love with Endymion, and I still lost him!" She started crying, hot tears that she had desperately wanted to avoid now sweeping down her cheeks in rivers. "The only thing that was different was that _I _didn't have a father. Was that I grew up thinking my father was a selfish jerk who had abandoned my mom and left us with nothing. Who was too busy to love me. Who made my mother cry… all the time…"

Serena turned away, swiping at the tears with her sleeve.

"Father, what is going _on_?"

Serena could feel Kenneth's attention shift away from her and used the moment to gather herself. She was already feeling guilty—not from the words she had said, but from who she had said them in front of. When she saw how Kenneth was looking at Briar Rose she knew that he felt the same way—but possibly a hundred times worse.

"Briar Rose…" Kenneth stuttered, shame thick in his voice.

"Well?" Briar Rose hissed. "How do you know Serena? And what in Grimm's name are you talking about?"

Kenneth cast his eyes downward.

"Perhaps we should step out for a moment," Artemis mumbled as politely as he could, before silently leading Luna out of the room.

Kenneth did not dismiss the guards—Serena doubted he even noticed them, but a quick glance told her that Alex was watching the scene with a concerned frown. She began to think he'd already guessed the truth.

"_Well_? Are you going to answer me?"

"Briar Rose…. This is… complicated."

She folded her arms and scowled. But through her anger and stubbornness was a clear film of fear, and the bright white aura hanging above her head was trembling.

"Then you'd better start explaining," she snapped.

"This is… I hope you'll understand. And before I tell you I want you to know that I love you very much."

"Just tell what's going on."

Serena could see Kenneth's jaw working to form the words. "Yes… you see… this girl, this… what are they calling you?"

"Serena. My name is Serena."

Kenneth nodded. "Serena, here, is… is… well…. Your sister, in a way."

Serena scoffed, her blood beginning to boil. "Rubbish!"

"It is not rubbish!" the king bellowed, turning back to Serena. "You are both my daughters, and I love you equally. Therefore, in my eyes, you are sisters."

"We are _not_ both your daughters," Serena growled. "Briar Rose may be, but _I _am not. And you are a fool for thinking you love us equally—you don't even _know_ me."

"_Daughters_?" Briar Rose screeched. "What do you mean we're both your daughters? We're practically the same age! And we're certainly not _twins._"

Kenneth threw his arms into the air. "It's just like two teenage girls to turn against their father like this."

"Serena," Briar Rose snapped. "I can't get make an ounce of sense out of him. Please tell me what this is all about."

Like any princess, Briar Rose was skilled at pleading, and demanding, and Serena could not refuse the request. After all—she had a right to know.

"All right," she began. "Sixteen years ago, I was born as Princess Briar Rose of Obelia." Serena's emotions were numbed—her childhood was only solid facts. "I was betrothed to Endymion, and then I was cursed by Beryl. Fearful that Beryl would stop at nothing until I was dead, my parents—the King and Queen of Obelia—decided to hide me away somewhere Beryl could not find me. And so my mother took me to the world of the storytellers. Everyone was told that the queen had died from illness. As for the baby…"

Briar Rose's lips were white, and she nodded in understanding as Serena trailed off. "They found a replacement," she whispered.

A stillness fell over the room as Briar Rose mulled over her true history, reconsidered everything that had made her who she was.

"Briar Rose…" Kenneth whispered.

"Where did you find me?" she interrupted with a voice of steel. "Do I have some other parents, somewhere, waiting for me to return now that the real princess is back?"

"No, no…. You were orphaned. Your father was one of our best hunters—he was killed by a wild boar, and your mother was a lady-in-waiting; she died in childbirth."

"Well it was terribly convenient, wasn't it? You needed a baby to pose as your daughter and there I was. _Well,_ now that you have no further need of me, I suppose I'll just go work in the kitchens. Don't worry, Serena, I'm sure my quarters will be perfectly accommodating for you."

"Briar Rose, darling, don't be ridiculous."

"Who is being ridiculous?" she retorted. "Everything you have ever told me has been a lie. Is my real name even _Briar Rose_?" When Kenneth looked guilt-ridden, the princess threw her arms into the air. "It's not, is it? I don't even know my real name!"

"Please, calm down. I didn't want to keep it all from you, but I _had_ to… Briar Rose, I have always thought of you as a daughter. I have always loved you, from the day you were put into my arms. Just as I always loved _you,_ Serena, despite what you say."

"I don't want to hear it," Briar Rose hissed. "Just tell me my real name and then sentence me to whatever life of servitude I'm destined for."

"Do you really think I would cast you out like that?"

"Why would you keep me? You have _her_ now." Briar Rose's eyes burned as she gestured at Serena. "First she stole my curse, and then my fiancé, and now she's stealing my crown and my father and my kingdom. What does it matter anymore? Take it all! After all, I'm just the daughter of a—" The words died on her tongue and the anger on her face melted almost instantly into surprise. "What _is_ my real name?" she whispered after a moment of silence.

"Your mother wanted to call you Michelle," Kenneth said. "It was one of the last things she said. That—and that she loved you."

"Michelle…"

"But you are my little princess, my little Briar Rose. I truly do love you. I have never lied about that…. And I will not abandon you, you must know that."

Briar Rose nodded. "I know, Father. It just… comes as a bit of a surprise, is all."

Impressed with Briar Rose's composure, the kind of calm that could only come with a lifetime of diplomatic training, Serena felt her own bitterness draining away. Kenneth did seem to honestly love his daughter, as Serena knew that he would have honestly loved her if he'd been given the chance.

"But it is true, isn't it, that I am not officially a princess?" Briar Rose continued.

"Briar Rose, the people of Obelia _love_ you. While Serena may wish to claim her place to the throne…"

Briar Rose ignored him, her breath quickening and her eyes brightening beneath her thick eyelashes. "But if I am not a princess, and you are not my father, then you cannot tell me who to marry."

Kenneth's jaw fell open and he reeled back a couple of steps. "_Marry?_ Is that what you're talking about? Goodness, Briar Rose, but of course I'm still going to tell you who to marry! Why wouldn't you want me to find you a suitable husband? Have you lost your wits?"

Briar Rose—surprisingly—laughed. The joyful, tinkling sound vibrated throughout the room. "No, you _can't._ You can try, of course, but I won't listen to you. All my life I've thought that I was stuck in this betrothal because that's what princesses do—they marry the princes their fathers find for them. It's for the best of their kingdom, and for the throne, and for all their people. But I don't have that responsibility anymore and I _won't_ take it back. I can marry anyone I want to now and you can't say anything about it. Whether I choose to marry a…. a farmer, or a baker, or… or…" She laughed again, clapping her hands together over her heart as if the world had just played a very big joke on her and had finally reached the punch line.

Her happiness was contagious. Serena laughed too, adding, "Or even a huntsman!"

"Or even a huntsman!" Briar Rose agreed through her giggles. "Or a castle guard! Can you imagine? After all this time, I… I…"

"A huntsman? A castle _guard_? What are you girls talking about?"

Serena risked a glance at Alex and saw that the guard was watching the late princess with disbelief.

"Briar Rose, are you trying to tell me… Does my little girl have a…. a _beaux_?"

The word was whispered with such forbidden incredulity that it sent Serena and Briar Rose into a new fit of laughter, even as Briar Rose shook her head. "No, Father, I would never…! But I… there is… there is someone…" She caught her breath and dabbed at the corner of her eye with her sleeve. "Although… I guess I don't even know if he would have me."

"_Who_?" the king bellowed. "Who in Grimm's name is my daughter so smitten with, and she never even bothered to _tell_ me?"

Still breathless, Briar Rose lowered her eyes—a shyness creeping into her confidence.

Serena glanced at the line of guards and could see them glancing at each other from the corners of their eyes, wondering if someone in their midst was the man Briar Rose was speaking of. And then there was Alex. His gloved hands were clutched into terrified fists, his face pale and his jaw flexing as he tried to decide whether or not to speak up. He happened to meet Serena's gaze, then, and looked instantly embarrassed to see her watching him, seeing straight through him.

But she smiled as kindly as she could, and nodded. A given permission from the Guardian of Happy Endings, and it seemed to be all Alex needed.

Alex nervously stepped out of the line of guards. "Your…" he croaked, then cleared his throat and began again, "Your Majesty, if I may have permission to speak?"

Kenneth turned to Alex with a look that could not have been more shocked if Alex had turned into a toad before his very eyes. "Permission granted," he finally growled, glancing at his daughter to see her eyes locked on the guard with a barely-repressed smile.

It took Alex another moment to muster his courage. "After listening to all that has been said here, I find myself thinking… well, hoping, in fact, that… Her Majesty, the Princess Briar Rose… speaks… possibly… of me." He gulped and lowered his eyes from the king. "Though I assure you my intentions and actions toward Her Majesty have always been of the most honorable, I… confess that I have developed… some… feelings… not appropriate for a guard to have toward his princess, but… but perhaps…"

He trailed off and Serena almost began to pity the poor boy. Though he had never once flinched throughout the escape to the dungeons and the battle with Cashlin, he now looked positively horrified.

Briar Rose, on the other hand, did not seem to pity him in the slightest. Rather, she muttered saucily beneath her breath, "I _knew_ you were in love with me."

With a surprised cough, Alex had no choice but to look up at her, but the smile she could no longer hide was so overwhelming that he was able to let out the breath he had held and almost found himself smiling back.

Until the king barked, "Stop ogling my daughter like that!"

Alex snapped back to attention, bowing low at the waist with his arms locked at his side.

Briar Rose couldn't help giggling, immune to her father's temper.

"Well then," Kenneth continued, "now that you've made a blithering fool of yourself, my boy, why don't you get to the point and ask what it is you want to ask?"

Meeting the king's glower, Alex gathered his voice again. "Your Majesty, I would like to ask for the honor of Briar Rose's hand in marriage."

Kenneth folded his arms, his gaze dark and brooding as he stared down the guard. "You would, would you? And how do I know that you're good enough for my baby girl?"

Alex gaped, thinking it must be a trick question. Shaking his head, he responded, "Your Majesty… nobody is good enough for her."

Kenneth squinted, watching Alex with deep suspicion for a long, awkward silence.

Finally, just as Serena was beginning to think she would have to intervene again, the king reached out and pulled Alex toward him with a jubilant laugh, clapping him on the back and booming, "Welcome to the family, m'boy!"

He'd released the stunned guard before Alex could even think about returning the embrace.

"I always liked you, I want you to know that. You're a good lad. I know you'll take good care of her. But _you,_" he turned on Briar Rose, "nearly scared me to death! I thought you were planning on eloping with some vagabond! You wretched girl, never do that to me again!"

Laughing, Briar Rose threw her arms around her father's broad shoulders. "Oh, thank you, Daddy, thank you!"

"I suppose you'll still be wanting me to pay for the wedding, won't you?"

Briar Rose planted a kiss on her father's cheek without bothering to reply, then pulled away and turned toward Alex with a look that teetered between blissful and terrified. His expression mirrored hers, and though Serena could tell they were both dying to know the protective circle of each other's arms and the unfamiliar touch of each other's lips—neither had any idea how to get there.

"Well," Kenneth harrumphed, turning away from the awkward couple, "I was miraculously able to make one daughter happy. Now _what_ am I going to do with you?"

Serena smiled—it was too good of a moment _not_ to smile. "What's done is done," Serena said. "I am sorry that I didn't know you growing up, but I forgive you."

"Thank you," Kenneth whispered. "And I _am_ sorry."

"I know." She sighed. "Now then, we still have some important political matters to discuss."

Briar Rose groaned. "Aren't we done talking about all that yet?"

Snickering, Serena shook her head. "Almost. You see, Briar Rose, I'm afraid you are still going to be stuck with the crown."

"What?"

"I will not be taking it from you. Not only do I not _want_ to rule Obelia, but I _can't_ rule Obelia. I forfeited my right to be queen when I became a guardian, and therefore the responsibility falls on you."

Briar Rose cast a scared look at Alex, who instinctively reached for her hand, sending the signal to everybody that he would not lose her now that he had finally got her.

"Don't worry," said Serena. "I'm sure Lord Grimm will be happy to perform the necessary rituals to make you a legal princess. And… I know that Alex will make a splendid king. What do you think, Your Majesty?"

Kenneth could not help but agree. "I can think of no one better. But then… what will you do? We have just met… I was hoping I might be able to get to know my daughter… after so many years…"

"I'm sorry," Serena said, and she truly was. "I would like that, too, but… I don't think I'll be staying much longer. This is not my home. And… I miss Mom."

"You are not the only one who misses her."

For a moment, there was pure misery in his face, and Serena felt her heart breaking. Perhaps King Kenneth was the only other person in this whole land who knew the true meaning of heartbreak.

"You should know that she still loves you," Serena said. "She's never told me so, but I know… I know that she does. And perhaps… she'll be ready to return."

"You should both return. You belong here as much as she does, Serena. I don't care what the rules of guardians are, you _are_ a princess here."

"Thank you. But… I don't belong here, not like she does. This is her true home. Not mine."

"If ever you change your mind, you have a home here. A kingdom that will always welcome you."

Serena grinned. "I have _three_ kingdoms that will always welcome me here. Thank you. It was wonderful to finally meet you."

Kenneth uncertainly held his arms out to her and Serena did not hesitate in accepting the warm hug. His cloak smelled like fir trees and his beard scratched her forehead when he squeezed her tight—and it was exactly like being held by the father she'd always dreamt of.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Will you tell your mother hello for me?" he pleaded. "Will you tell her… tell her that I love her? As much as the day I married her. And that I miss her so very much."

"Yes. I'll tell her." She glanced at Briar Rose and Alex, their hands still intertwined.

"Thank you, Serena," Briar Rose said. "I knew you would help make everything right."

She smiled. "I'm the Guardian of Happy Endings. That's what I do."

* * *

"You don't _have_ to go. You know that, right?"

Serena nodded, patting Artemis's hand. "I know. But I can't stay here. This isn't my home."

"But this _is_ your home. And we're your family now. In my mind, you're as much a daughter-in-law as any of these lovely girls here."

Serena smiled. The words did not sting as they would have only days before, because she knew they were true. "And I see all of you as my family, too." She looked around at all the sad faces filling up the tiny hovel that Wilhelm Grimm had built. The single-room house was full and crowded and the air was hot from all the bodies, but Serena hardly noticed. It took all of her willpower to remain smiling—it was nearly impossible, what with Mina sniffling in the corner and Amy, Raye, and Lita all looking at her with dampened eyes.

"Now stop that," Serena scolded. "All of you. I might come back, you never know. This isn't necessarily good-bye."

"_Might_ come back, she says," Jadeite scoffed.

"What if something comes up and we _need_ you?" whined Mina. "You're the only guardian we have left."

"You were doing perfectly fine before you had any guardians at all. Maybe even _better._"

"But you're not like those villains. Besides, we had the storytellers then, and we don't even have them anymore."

Serena glanced at Jacob, but he didn't look offended. "Don't worry, I will keep close watch on Miss Serena as long as these old bones allow me to," Jacob said. Though he was sitting in the only chair in the room, stroking Puss in Boots who had curled up lazily on his lap, he did not look like the old man Serena had met on Thornrose Lane. The adventure had awakened something in him. His cheeks had more color, his eyes were more alert, and the crook in his back had amazingly started to straighten out. Serena believed it was the magic in the air doing it to him. He must have simply spent too many years away from Aysel, and now the land was welcoming him back with open arms.

"Yes, Jacob will be able to come get me if any emergencies arise," Serena pointed out. "So you see? I might come back."

"I still don't like that _might,_" muttered Jadeite. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to this kingdom, Serena. After the storytellers, of course." He ventured a teasing smile at Jacob.

"You're the best thing that's happened to _all_ the kingdoms," added Raye, who had spent the last few days preparing for both the Cashlin crowning ceremony _and_ a wedding. It hadn't taken long for her and Jadeite to realize it was the only possible future for them—and they both expected it to be a very happy one.

"Hey, 'as everyone forgotten who dug under the castle and got you all out o' jail in the firs' place? What is she gettin' all the praise for?" grumbled Wilopin.

"Not to mention who dropped the coffin and woke up Snow Drop over there," pointed out Vlonterp.

"An' who foun' Master Soy Breath drownin' in that river and brought 'im home," added Wilopin. "In fact, I'm thinkin' that _we dwarfs_ are the best thing that's 'appened to all three kingdoms, but everyone always forget to thank the li'l guys."

Laughing, Serena said, "You see? What do you need me for when you have the seven dwarfs looking after you?"

"But who's going to look after _them_?" teased Lita.

There was more chuckling, but it was cut short when Serena did not join in.

"Serena…" Amy murmured, reaching for the girl's hand.

"I am going to miss you," Serena whispered. "Every one of you. More than you know."

"We know," refuted Amy. "It's almost as much as we're going to miss you."

"And it isn't just because you did so much to help us," said Nephlite. "It's also because you got us to stop being so stubborn…"

"You were the only stubborn one," Lita joked, elbowing her husband in the stomach.

"And because you taught us to be brave when we were ready to give up," added Zoicite. "And because you always put our happiness before your own. You've become a sister to us."

There was a chorus of nodding and Serena had to close her eyes to keep the tears in. "Stop it. I didn't want to cry."

"You thought it could be helped?" asked Raye, pulling Serena into a hug. "You always have a home here."

"I know. Thank you."

She was passed around a circle of embraces. Luna was sobbing the loudest when Serena got to her, wails so enthusiastic it almost made Serena laugh. The dwarfs seemed to have the only dry eyes in the place, but they did not hesitate to supply hugs of their own, all the while grumbling about how much they hated good-byes. Even Hansel and Gretel had come to see her off and they were sniffling through reddened noses. Serena's heart ached at the thought of never seeing their round freckled faces again. She pulled them both into a hug, burying her face in their soft, messy hair. "You be good, okay?"

"_You_ be good," replied Hansel, and Gretel backed him up with a firm nod.

"I'll try," she whispered, standing up and taking one last sweeping look at the crowd. Jacob pulled himself out of the rocking chair. Rudely awakened, Puss hopped onto the wooden floor and blinked up at the storyteller with irritated red eyes, a glare that went ignored.

"Thank you again, Miss Serena," Jacob said. "I am sorry that I could not give you the happy ending you deserve."

"It may not be exactly happily ever after, but you showed me that fairy tales really do come true. And that's more than I ever hoped to know."

Puss in Boots meowed, plodding toward the front door and pawing at the frame.

"You're right. It's time to go," said Serena, and was met with a chorus of complaints, but nobody tried to stop her as she walked slowly to the door and placed her hand on the knob.

"Well, this is it, then. Good bye, everyone. Thank you for everything. Maybe… someday…"

"Ah, jus' get outta 'ere before you make me get all choked up," growled Gralogwid, and Serena couldn't help smiling at him through watery eyes.

"You have to close your eyes, and make sure the door shuts behind you," coached Jacob.

Serena nodded, meeting the gazes of all of her friends one last time, before closing her eyes.

She took a deep breath—the air was filled with freshness and sunshine—and opened the door.

Serena expected the roller-coaster tumbling of her stomach as she breached the veil between the two worlds, but it did not make it any more bearable. When the feeling had subsided and left her dizzy, she fell back against the wooden door and slowly opened her eyes.

The house on Thornrose Lane had not changed. The yard was still full of weeds and dandelions and overgrown grass, and even more bruised apples littered the ground beneath the sickly apple tree. The sky was gray and dreary and Serena thought it must be the afternoon, though she couldn't see the sun through the thick layer of clouds.

It looked like it might rain.

A breeze blew across the patio and Serena wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the chill.

"So I guess that's that," she murmured to the forlorn yard.

She started down the creaky stairs but a movement against her ankle made her yelp and jump away, grasping for the railing.

Puss in Boots blinked up at her nonplussed.

Serena chuckled. "Thought you would miss me too much?"

The cat tilted his head to the side and began licking one of his white paws.

"All right, then. Let's get going before it starts to rain. You remember where you found me, right? It's a bit of a walk."

Puss did not mind as she picked him up. He snuggled against her collarbone and sent a gentle purr thrumming against Serena's throat. "That's right, Puss. Home sweet home."

* * *

"Mom!" Serena cried, throwing open the front door. Puss scurried out of her arms as Serena rushed down the hallway. "Mom, where are you?"

"Serena?" her mother came breezing out of the kitchen, wearing a cotton dress and white slippers. "Serena! Oh my—Serena! Oh, thank goodness." There were tears in her eyes before she could even wrap her arms around Serena and then they were both crying. It was with the comforting circle of her mom's arms that Serena realized just how very homesick she had been. She sobbed into her mother's shoulder, wanting to explain, to tell her everything, but she couldn't find her voice.

"Serena, I was so worried. I didn't know if you would ever come home…"

"Mama, I went… I was at…"

"Aysel. I know, honey, Lord Grimm told me. It didn't help." She pulled far enough away to grasp Serena's face in her hands, analyzing the flushed cheeks and glittering eyes. "It didn't help ease my worries at all. Aysel… it's dangerous for you…"

"Not anymore, Mom. Beryl's gone. I defeated her."

Her mother's jaw dropped. "Defeated her?"

"It's a long story." Serena sniffled, tying her arms around her mom's waist again and squeezing her tight. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too, honey. I missed you too." She kissed Serena on the forehead. "And I missed your birthday! Come here, come here." She broke away from Serena's embrace and grabbed onto her hand, pulling her into the kitchen. "I wanted to have your favorite cake ready when you got home, but I didn't know how long… But I'll make one right now. We'll make it together, okay?"

"Double-chocolate with chocolate cream cheese frosting?"

"Well _what else_ would I make for your birthday?"

Serena laughed and forced her way into her mom's arms again, not ready for the contact to be over. "Mama…I met my father."

She felt her mom take a deep breath, her chest rising beneath Serena's ear. "I wondered…" she whispered. "And… how is he…?"

"He wanted me to tell you hello for him. And he wanted you to know that he still loves you, as much as the day he married you. And that he misses you very much. And he wants you to come home."

Her mom raised her hand to brush away some fallen tears.

"I told him that you still loved him too."

"Oh you did, did you?"

"I knew it was true. You still cry over him."

A wry laugh escaped her mom's lips. "I never knew you were so observant."

"He wanted you to come back, Mom." Serena pulled away, holding her mom at arm's length so that she could look into her watery gaze. "And maybe… maybe you should go back, if you want to. I know… how much you must miss it."

Her mom gulped. "It _is _my home, and it always will be…"

"I would understand if you wanted to go back. I would. And I could stay with Melvin…"

"You wouldn't come with me?"

"No, mom. I've thought about it and… _this_ is my home."

Her mom sighed and slumped against the kitchen counter. Serena could tell that she was considering her life then and her life now, and she could see the desire in her face to return to her kingdom, her crown… and the love of her life.

But then she shook her head and smiled at Serena. "Don't be silly. I could never leave you, Serena. You're the most wonderful thing in my life."

"But I want you to be happy."

"And I would be _miserable_ without my baby girl." She pursed her lips in thought, then shrugged. "Perhaps when you're older and can go out and make it on your own… then I'll think about what's best for me. But until then there will be no more talk of me leaving. I love you far too much for that, Serena."

Serena broke into a grin and threw herself at her mom again. "That's a deal. To be honest… I didn't really want you to leave."

Her mom chuckled and stroked Serena's hair. "It's good to know that you still want me around. Besides, it's been sixteen years already. What's another three or four to watch your little girl grow up?"

Serena accepted another kiss on her forehead before her mom set about gathering bowls and pans. "I want to mix," she said, climbing onto a stool at the table as her mom pulled baking ingredients from the cupboard. It was a little unnerving, the familiarity of it all, the _normalcy._

"So tell me what else I've been missing all these years. Did you meet Luna and Artemis?"

"Oh yeah. I stayed at Aysel castle the whole time."

"Wonderful people, aren't they? You know, Luna and I were childhood friends."

"Were you really?"

"Oh yes. We used to get in so much trouble, always getting our dresses muddy and showing up filthy for very important ceremonies. She was the troublemaker, really. I just went along with it. So how about their children? Did they stop at five or have they had more since I left?"

"No, just the five boys."

"My, they must be getting old by now."

Serena nodded. "Malachite's married and has a baby girl—she was born just before I got there. And Nephlite and Zoicite were both married while I was there."

"_Oh!_ Did you get to see a royal wedding? Aren't they spectacular?"

Serena laughed, feeling a bond with her mother she'd never known before. Finally she knew something of her mom's childhood and her own father. Finally there would be no more secrets between them. The thought made her giddy.

"It _was_ spectacular. Everything was beautiful and romantic… just like a fairy tale."

"Yes, _exactly_ like a fairy tale."

"And then there's Jadeite, and he got engaged just before I left. To Princess Snow White of Cashlin, actually."

"Did he really? I always wondered about that poor girl… having to live with that horrible witch as a stepmother, especially after her father died…"

"Yeah, but she turned out pretty well. She actually left Cashlin years ago and started living with seven dwarfs in the woods, and she was happy there. They protected her."

"Did you say seven dwarfs?"

"It's complicated. But anyhow, she'll be made queen now, with Beryl gone. And Jadeite will be king."

"What a fabulous union between Cashlin and Aysel. I'm sure everyone's very happy."

"They are. It all worked out in the end."

"And…" her mother prodded, breaking some eggs into a bowl.

"And what?"

"And what about little Endymion? I half-expected you to come home married… they _did_ tell you about… your betrothal… didn't they?"

Serena felt an awkward chill on her spine and lowered her eyes to the table. "Yeah. They told me."

"Honey, what's wrong?" her mom asked, concern creasing her brow as she claimed the stool beside Serena.

"Endymion…" she began, wondering how she could possibly explain everything that had happened, all that she had felt in such a short period of time.

"You fell in love with him," her mother murmured, placing her hand over Serena's. "I can see _that._"

Serena nodded. "And he woke me from the curse with love's first kiss," she whispered, "just like the story said he would."

"But…?"

"But… then, he died." She almost choked on the last word, and her mom was holding her before tears could slip down her face again. "And I couldn't save him, Mama. I couldn't do anything to save him."

"I'm sorry, honey. I'm so sorry." She waited a long time, rubbing Serena's back and petting her hair, until the sobs had started to subside. "Listen, Serena, I told your teachers that your grandma was dying, and you'd gone to take care of her for awhile. You can take what time you need before going back, okay? I know you've been through an awful lot."

"Thanks," she muttered through her sniffles. "Would it be okay if I went and laid down for awhile?"

"That's fine. I'll finish up the cake and it'll be ready by the time you come back down."

"Thanks, Mom. I love you."

"I love you too. I'm glad you're home."

"Me too."

"Oh, and sweetie?"

Serena paused in the doorway.

"Melvin usually stops in after school, to ask for any news about you. Do you want me to tell him you're home?"

Serena thought about it briefly, before nodding. "Sure. It'd be good to see an old friend." She slipped up the stairs to her bedroom and found Puss in Boots standing by her door, as if he'd known just which room was hers. With a small smile, she bent down and picked him up, holding him close to her chest.

"I'm glad you came back with me, Puss." She brought him into her bedroom and sat down on her bed. She took a moment to survey the room. It hadn't changed. Her school clothes were still scattered over the floor, pictures of her, her mom, and Melvin littered the dresser, and she noticed that the charcoal sky had started to drizzle beyond her white eyelet curtains. "For three weeks I was a princess, and a guardian, and a Chosen One," she said, scratching the cat behind his ears. "But you know… it feels kind of good now to just be me."

Puss purred back his response and soon fell asleep.

* * *

Time was not healing her heart. Though she had been home for nearly a week, each new morning only brought more heartache. Serena found herself drawn to her bed more often, snuggled between her covers and sheets with Puss in Boots stretched out beside her and the memories of Endymion weighing her down.

And she cried. All the time, she cried, and finally understood all those nights she had heard her mother's sobs in the next room.

Without the responsibility of being a guardian to distract her, Serena found her mind occupied only with thoughts of those three weeks, starting with the moment she had first met Endymion in the dining room—thrown herself into his arms as if they were already lovers. She'd been so deathly embarrassed at the time, but now she thought on it with reminiscent smiles. How surprised he had been, how he had teased her afterwards.

She thought of their arguments, and their apologies. How he had nearly kissed her in the moonlight outside Raye's cottage. How they had danced at the wedding when she'd had to use every ounce of strength to keep herself from falling madly in love with him, when she still believed they were not meant to be together.

Thinking of those moments when she had pushed him away twisted like a knife in her chest, brought her tears rising to the surface again. How she had rejected his advances time and time again, even knowing how terrified he was of love, and how brave he must have been to confess his feelings for her.

She thought of Trista, the singing harp, who had told the truth after all.

At times the memories became too much to stand and Serena would curl into a ball beneath her quilts and sob until her throat hurt. A piece of her was missing. A piece of her had died when she had held Endymion's body in her arms, the echo of his kiss still on her lips. A piece she knew she would never get back.

But Puss never left her side at those times when she felt her future crumbling to pieces around her, and it was that constant comfort that always brought her back around with a weak smile.

And Melvin came to visit her every day, sometimes in the morning and again in the afternoon—and sometimes even again, after dinner. He never asked why she was still in bed, why she was behaving that way, why she was so miserable. Serena let him believe she was mourning the death of her grandmother, but she thought he knew otherwise. After all, she'd never even mentioned a grandmother before, why would she now be so torn over her death? But even if Melvin had figured out that Serena's depression was from some other cause, he never let on, and she was grateful for that. She was keeping Endymion locked in her heart and was not ready to share him with anyone.

Serena did not want to have to find those words to explain, to anyone, what had happened.

And so Melvin did not ask her about where she had been or what she had done or why she always had swollen red eyes when he came to visit. Instead he told her about their homework—that Serena knew she would never complete—and the new species he had added to his Lepidoptera collection, and all the school gossip.

And he talked about Darien Shields.

Maybe he didn't notice that Serena's eyes never lit up anymore when he talked about Darien, because Melvin still came in excited with a hushed voice when he had news on the heartthrob, like he always had, and he pretended that Serena was on the edge of her seat waiting to hear the news.

It turned out that Darien had asked about her after she'd gone missing from the school, without Melvin even having to bring her up. "Whatever happened to that blonde girl you always hang out with?" he'd asked one day. "I never see her around anymore."

Melvin had told him about her sick grandmother and then, every day, Darien would inquire after her.

Serena would smile at the stories and listen politely, thinking only of the day she had mistaken Endymion for Darien Shields, the day everything had changed.

A knock at her bedroom door startled Serena from her dreaming. She had not been crying, or even dozing off, but her head had been filled with Endymion—again.

She sat up and checked the clock, seeing that school had just gotten out and knew that Melvin was here to tell her all about the new drama at Crossroads High.

"Come in."

The door creaked open and a head of black hair and vibrant blue eyes poked in.

Serena's heart jumped into her throat, her breath choking her on its way into her lungs.

"Hi," he said, shifting the door open a bit farther, though his hand was still latched to the handle. "Um… I'm… Darien Shields. I'm a friend of Melvin's?"

She found her breath, felt blood rushing to her cheeks. With a strangled gulp, she nodded. "I know who you are," she whispered.

"Is this a bad time? I won't stay long…"  
"No, it's okay… I was just… um… taking a nap…"

"Sorry," he said, but he didn't look guilty as he shut the door behind him and thrust his hands into his pockets, his gaze shifting around the room. "I just came to see if you were okay," he said, not meeting her gaze, though she could not look away from him. "I know that's probably weird. But Melvin talks about you all the time, so I almost feel like I know you." His storm-blue eyes flittered to her again. "That's probably weird, too."

Realizing that he expected an answer, Serena shook her head. "No. I kind of feel like I know you, too. He talks about you a lot… too."

"Yeah. He likes to talk about people," he mused, and the understated fact sent a nervous chuckle out of Serena's lips.

"Do you want to sit?" she asked, gesturing to the end of the bed.

He claimed her vanity chair instead. "I'm sorry about your grandmother."

It took Serena a moment to figure out what he was talking about, and when she did a momentary bout of guilt swelled inside her stomach. "Thanks."

"You must have been close to her, huh? I'm not really close to any of my grandparents."

"I guess so," Serena managed, surprise to find a spark of nerves in the base of her stomach when Darien rubbed the back of his head. And she was even more surprised at a spark of joy when she realized he was _nervous._

The pause that settled between them was awkward, but she could think of nothing to say as Darien's gaze swept over her room again. She began to wish that she'd bothered to clean it, but he didn't seem to notice the mess, too taken with the framed photos and the books on her little bookshelf.

"So Melvin tells me you're into fairy tales?"

"You could say that."

"Kind of a unique interest."

She shrugged. "I've loved them since I was a kid. They can break your heart, though, if you let them."

Darien chuckled as if he thought she was joking. "Break your heart? The kid's stories?"

"They aren't all for kids."

He peered at her from the corner of his eye.

"It's true," she said, almost defensive. "Did you know that in the original Cinderella, the stepsisters cut off their heels and toes in order to get the slipper onto their feet?"

Darien flinched in disgust. "Are you serious?"

She nodded. "There are some really gruesome things in those stories."

"That's kind of cool," he said, his lips quirking enough to show the dimples in his cheeks. Serena's heart jolted and she had to remind herself that this was not Endymion. This was not her prince charming. It was just a normal teenage boy. It was just Darien Shields. "But they all still end happy, right?"

Serena glanced away, her eyes meeting the spine of her favorite book, the collection of Grimm's Fairy Tales. "Most of them."

Following her gaze, Darien reached up and pulled the book from the shelf. Serena admired how gentle his hands were with the fragile binding and yellowed paper.

"Darien," she ventured nervously, "can I ask you something? It's kind of personal."

He flicked his eyes toward her and shut the book, letting it lie peacefully in his lap. "Go ahead."

She tore her eyes away and fidgeted, her hands picking at strings in her blanket. "This is going to sound weird, but… well, if you had only one chance to find true love, like—real, fairy tale, soul mate kind of love—would you let it slip through your fingers?"

Darien quirked his eyebrows, took a moment to consider the question, then muttered, "What do you mean?"

Serena shrugged, already regretting that she'd asked the question. "Like… what if you weren't sure the girl liked you back. Or what if… going after her was… somehow… dangerous?"

"Like if her dad was a rifle-carrying maniac who would shoot any guy who so much looked at his daughter?"

Serena laughed. "Yeah, something like that."

Darien leaned back in the chair, fixing his eyes on the ceiling, and Serena was almost amazed to see him taking the question seriously. "Well… if it was love, real love, not just the pretend, teenage love that most of our classmates feel…" Serena nodded, surprised that Darien could see the fake love as plainly as she could. She held her breath, preparing herself for the same denial she had first gotten from Endymion when asked the question. But instead, Darien said, "Then you can't just let it slip through your fingers. I mean, it may be scary to do something about it, but… you owe it to yourself to at least _try._ And you owe it to that other person, too, because they may be just as much in love with you… and it would be almost cruel to deny them that, wouldn't it?"

Serena's heart was pounding, a steady drum knocking against her rib cage. "Yeah…" she breathed. "It would be."

Endymion's words came to her, unbidden. _If I die, and you go back to your world, I want you to give a kiss to that boy. The other me._

"_But,_" Darien continued, "with that said, I'm not entirely sure I believe in this 'one true love' stuff to begin with."

She frowned, leaning forward. "What do you mean?"

"Well… take my mom, for example. She married my dad when she was nineteen, and they really, really loved each other. High school sweethearts and all that. They were young, but it was the real thing."

Serena nodded.

"But my dad died in a car accident when I was seven, and it was really hard on my mom. She was heartbroken for _years,_ and I wasn't sure she'd ever get over it. But then, a couple years ago, she started dating again, and she met my step dad, and she fell in love with him. And, of course, got married. And just because she loved my dad doesn't mean she loves my step dad any less, and because she loves my step dad doesn't mean she loved my dad any less, you know? So… I just don't entirely buy the one-and-only scenario. I think it's too limiting on the human heart. And on… destiny."

Serena licked her lips and forced a smile. _It may be the closest to kissing you I will ever come._

"I hope you're right," she whispered.

Darien refocused his gaze on her. In that look she noticed all the little, miniscule differences between him and Endymion. Endymion's eyebrows had been fuller, his cheekbones higher, and Darien's eyes were speckled with tiny flakes of black. But still…

_If he's so much like me then he must be in love with you._

"Want me to read you a story?" he asked suddenly, holding up the book of fairy tales.

Serena snickered. "Are you kidding?"

"No, really. It would be a pleasure. Which one do you want to hear?"

She struggled with the question, beginning to fear any more awkward moments, but Darien seemed perfectly relaxed. And so she shrugged and laid back down, pulling the blankets up to her chin. "I don't care. You pick one."

With his lips pursed in thought, Darien flipped through the pages, scanning the titles and little black-and-white drawings. "I remember this one," he murmured, clearing his throat. "Once upon a time…"

"Wait," Serena interrupted, reaching her hand out of the linens to clap over the book, discovering Darien's fingers on the page. They were warm. Almost familiar. "Would you read the end first?"

"The end? No, I will not read the end first," he said, looking honestly disgusted at the thought.

Serena smiled, fluttering her eyelashes. "Please? In case I fall asleep and miss it?"

Darien snorted and flipped a couple of worn page.

"And they lived happily to the end of their days."

Serena's smile stretched into a delighted grin as she let her head fall deep into the pillow. "Okay," she said. "You can start at the beginning now."

He grinned at her, half teasing, half compassionate. "Sure thing, Your Highness."

Serena couldn't help returning the look—feeling like it was the first time she'd smiled in ages. She closed her eyes and listened to the crinkled sound of antique paper turning. His presence was warm beside her. Serena felt a heated tingling at the base of her stomach, a frightening flutter of the heart as he began to read.

It was almost the same magical feeling as the invincibility she'd felt as a guardian.

And she heard Darien's voice, soothing and promising as he began.

"Once upon a time…"

* * *

_Please review. Author's note to follow._


	35. A Note from Alicia

The House on Thornrose Lane: A Grimm Tale

A note on the story from Alicia, to be read once the ending has been thoroughly digested. Or immediately. Whichever.

…

Well there you have it. The end of my first epic story. It was officially seven years in the writing and over a year and a half in the posting and at this point has collected over three times as many reviews as any other story of mine. I truly cannot thank you all enough for sticking with the story and sending me your honest reviews, critiques, and support. Every comment was much appreciated.

And I of course must thank Phantasy Star, who agreed to edit this monstrosity and did an amazing job from start to finish. She was very instrumental in polishing up the final story.

The reason for this note is to address a couple things that I suspect are going to come up, or have come up already:

**Endymion. **All stories begin with a seed of an idea that eventually grows and unfolds to encompass an entire plot. The seed for this story was one scene that popped into my head when I was fifteen years old—the love's first kiss scene. The death scene. I knew from the very beginning that I would eventually come to that one scene where Endymion was going to die.

That isn't to say I didn't try to stop it. I read countless fairy tales trying to think of a means to bring him back to life. In the fairy tale world. In the real world. At Serena's bidding, or at Grimm's bidding. At one point I thought of turning him into the frog prince. Or to somehow tie him in with Darien—I had never intended them to be the same person, but _could_ they be? But it simply did not work with the story no matter how hard I tried to make it.

I didn't write the death scene until I'd been working on the story for 5 or 6 years. One reader commented that Endymion's death felt like a cop-out, and if it was, it was a cop-out that was planned from the beginning, unavoidable, and (not to be melodramatic or anything) kind of broke my heart. After that scene was written, I did not touch the story for about two months. Writer's depression, perhaps? I was able to finish it eventually, of course, but the story was a struggle from that point on.

And when all of your reviews kept insisting that I bring him back, I revisited the issue and brainstormed and deliberated again, but still knew that it was not how the story was meant to end. I did stick to my initial plan, and I sincerely hope that you all found it to be a satisfactory ending. (But please, do not hesitate to tell me if you hated it, as long as you also tell me why.)

**Publication. **Many of you know that I started writing this as an original story, with hopes for eventual publication. I haven't completely neglected that idea and may someday work on revising it and turning it back into an original. And who knows? Maybe in that version the prince will live.

Should you have any suggestions or critiques that you feel would be helpful in a revision, please let me know. Any and all comments are welcome and appreciated.

Thanks again for reading and for all of your reviews!

**Up next.** The next story to be posted is called "To the Gentleman in the Back." It's getting back to my original style, more fun and cheerful. Should be about ten chapters long. I hope to start posting in June.

To stay updated, please sign up for my newsletter at aliciablade dot com. I am also posting drabbles there before anywhere else, and I may put the first chapter of Gentleman on my newsletter before posting it here, too, along with other news and updates. So please come on over and sign up!

Best wishes to you all,

Alicia


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